


Different Kind

by jessng



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, And Very Philosophical at Some Points, Biopunk-ish, Characters' Description Will Be As Close To Canon As Possible, Cross-Genre, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dark Past, Hard Science-ish, Jack is pretty ooc bewARE, Low Fantasy, Multi, Near Future, possible gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-07-24 06:40:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 25,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7498038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jessng/pseuds/jessng
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you are gifted with a special ability, say, telekinesis, what do you do with it?<br/>This is, indeed, a really original plot. ((sarcasm intended))<br/>..<br/>AU where the boys are supernatural beings with kinetic abilities and more.<br/>May contain slash.<br/>Let us now enter hell.<br/>((I may come up with a better summary one day, but, until then, we shall stick to this thing.))</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. PERSES - Files

**Author's Note:**

> This is a really, really impulsive idea of mine, so updates might not be regular, and, if you're here anyway, then thank you, and welcome to the sci-fi madness.

**Mezhgorye, Republic of Bashkortostan, Ufa, Russia  
54.0500° N, 57.8167° E  
Mezhgorye Facility for the Researching and Experimentation of Deviations (MFRED). **

**_PERSES_** : A British Army's military base, located 300 feet underneath Mezhgorye, Russia, the main facility for MFRED, specifically built to research and confine supernatural beings for scientific and military purposes. The area is completely restricted. Common civilians are to be shot on sight if caught breaking and entering.

**_Authorized Personnel Only._ **

* * *

**_Subject no. 0_**  
 **Chernenko, Roger Borisevich - 15 - Male**  
 **Born** : November 16th, 2001 in Russia  
 **Nationality** : England  
 **Location** : Classified  
 **Notes** : Captured on June 7th, 2011 in Preston, England. The first subject to be held captive, possesses immense telekinesis abilities and has shown signs of telepathy. Subject also appears to be mentally unstable and can attack even when not provoked.   
**Do not engage in close quarters**.

 ** _Subject no. 1_**  
 **Merridew, Jack Ignatius - 16 - Male**  
 **Born** : April 5th, 2000 in Scotland  
 **Nationality** : Scotland  
 **Location** : Cell A1576, P1  
 **Notes** : Captured on July 25th, 2011 in Aberdeen, Scotland. Subject appears to be able to create and manipulate fire ( _Pyrokinesis_ ). No. 1 is especially ferocious, reckless, and will attack when triggered.   
**Do not engage in close quarters.**

 ** _Subject no. 2_**  
 **Fallon, Ralph Galileo - 16 - Male**  
 **Born** : October 20th, 2000 in France  
 **Nationality** : England  
 **Location** : Cell A1577, P1  
 **Notes** : Captured on March 17th, 2012 in London, England. Subject can manipulate any liquid, regardless of density. No. 2 appears to be tamer and calmer than No. 1, but will attack defensively if confronted. Subject also seems to have Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.   
**Do not engage in close quarters.**

 ** _Subject no. 3_**  
 **Bonneviot, Sam - 15 - Male**  
 **Born** : May 25th, 2001 in the USA  
 **Nationality** : USA  
 **Location** : Cell A1584, P1  
 **Notes** : Captured on March 20th, 2012 in Compton, California, U.S.A along with his twin brother, Eric Bonneviot. Subject can merge into one person or split into two with his twin, and appears to have enhanced stamina, athleticity and regenerative abilities. Both subject and his twin appear to be tame and cooperative, even though No. 4 has shown to be more aggressive.   
**Possible to engage in close quarters.**

 ** _Subject no. 4_**  
 **Bonneviot, Eric - 15 - Male**  
 **Born** : May 25th, 2001 in the USA  
 **Nationality** : USA  
 **Location** ; Cell A1585, P1  
 **Notes** : _See above._

 ** _Subject no. 5_**  
 **Backus, Hugh - 15 - Male**  
 **Born** : January 5th, 2001 in England  
 **Nationality** : England  
 **Location** : Cell A1580, P1  
 **Notes** : Captured on April 8th, 2012 in Camberley, England. Subject has shown to be able to manipulate earthen matters ( _Geokinesis_ ) and has used his ability against our special squad. No. 5 has low physical abilities due to his body mass and health condition (asthma). However, subject has shown to be excessively intelligent.   
**Possible to engage in close quarters.**

 ** _Subject no. 9_**  
 **Renshaw, Simon - 15 - Male**  
 **Born** : June 23rd, 2001 in England  
 **Nationality** : England  
 **Location** : Cell A1579, P1  
 **Notes** : Captured on February 1st, 2013 in Liverpool, England. Subject is able to manipulate air ( _Aerokinesis_ ), but is, by far, the most cooperative and tamed. However, subject will attack defensively if heavily provoked. No. 9 presents symptoms of epilepsy.  
 **Possible to engage in close quarters.**

 ** _Subject no. 11_**  
 **Perez, Maurice Yash - 16 - Male**  
 **Born** : December 8th, 2000 in the Philippines  
 **Nationality** : England  
 **Location** : Cell A1583, P1  
 **Notes** : Captured on December 5th, 2013 in Preston, England. Subject can manipulate gravity ( _Gyrokinesis_ ), as informed by the subject himself. No. 11 is especially outgoing, sociable, and is apparently friends with no. 0. Subject will become extremely dangerous and attack if heavily provoked.  
 **Do not engage in close quarters.**

**All subjects are to consume a daily amount of** **_NT-35_ ** **, which disables their abilities, making them temporarily safe to encounter.**


	2. Daily Routine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The update is sooner than i expected it to be.

It is rumored that the CR, or _Confinement Room_ , is where they keep a beast.

Maybe it's true.

If what they keep isn't a beast, it won't be strapped in a bed with electricity running through its body all the time to paralyze it, and it won't be consuming quadruple the amount of _NT-35_ other subjects take in.

The children in _PERSES 1_ , or P1 for short, have only seen it once, but that was in the middle of the night, when the sergeants and doctors pushed it through their hall to head towards the lab. It was in a straightjacket, on its head was something that looked like a helmet, a thing which Piggy told them was probably lead, and the only actual part of it that were seen was a small puff of coal-black hair.

They heard distant screams that whole night.

They were curious then, and are still curious now, but they never have the guts to ask. They are all aware of what will happen if they get too nosy about classified information like that.

After the night, however, Maurice started claiming that what was in the CR wasn't a beast. He said, and would always say, it could never be a beast.

The other boys were just baffled.

* * *

If staying for four years in P1 has taught the blonde boy anything, it would be how he should always wake up on time. That's why, at exactly seven in the morning, when the siren that doubles as an alarm echoes around the hall, his eyes are immediately wide open. He has thirty minutes to make himself at least presentable before the sergeants and soldiers march to the cells and inject the "subjects", as they are commonly known, with a substance, _NT-35_ , that disables their special abilities (to him, they come in pills, so that he can't alter the substance or transfer it anywhere else). Then, they will be transferred to their classrooms, because even if they are to be experimented on by whatever this agency that has confined them here is, they are still stuck with the "study" duty.

Ralph Galileo Fallon actually thinks of this whole siren-as-alarm thing as pretty dumb. What if there is a real fire, or, say, an outbreak, happening right at seven in the morning, they won't even know, because the siren will just be an alarm to them. This "studying" thing, he thinks, is a little stupid, too, but he doesn't know how or why it is stupid, maybe it just is.

He walks to the personal sink in his cell and takes a look at the figure in the mirror. Being in P1 changes him in a weird way. He is quite indifferent towards the way he looks, though he must admit that they feed him quite well in here, which is why he can still keep his athletic build. He runs a hand through his blonde hair, which is somehow in its top condition despite him being in this hell of a place. What he hates, though, is the fact that he can only use his water-bending-kind-of-ability at night, when _NT-35_ starts to lose its effects. He knows he can use it right now, but only a part of it, so he opens the faucet and concentrates. Without _NT-35_ , he can do it with ease, but now that he has to take the substance in everyday, it's a million times harder. He moves his palm so that it opens upwards. The water's flow starts to distort. It slowly turns into a curve and follows the motion of his hand, defying gravity to arise. A small smile creeps up on Ralph's face, he moves further from the sink, his hand guiding the water from the faucet. His other hand slowly raises, and the fingers on that hand curl, gradually building up the impacts of his powers on the liquid. The pole of liquid crawls out of limit of the sink in a sluggish fashion, but that's when Ralph is distracted by the rapid knock on the other side of the wall. The water that is out of the sink drops to the floor, splashing as it makes the contact, while the water that's still in the sink returns to its regular flow.

"Jack!" Ralph wails, earning a chuckle from the person on the other side. Of course it has to be his "neighbor" sabotaging his concentration when it's at its fullest. "Come on! It's almost all the way out of the sink!" He continues to yell at Jack through the thick lead wall.

"At least yours is improving a little. I can't even hold a damn fire for like five minutes." Jack yells back at him, clearly sounding frustrated.

"Patience is key, my friend." Ralph gives the other teenager some "wise words" of his, then proceeds to change his clothes into the ones on a hanger on the wall in front of him. Those clothes are replaced every night. At exactly twelve thirty at night, all cells' doors are opened and a sergeant will go into each cell to replace the gray jumpsuit on the hanger with a clean one. All cells' doors are to be closed right after when every jumpsuits are replaced.

Ralph fixes his blonde hair a little more, then starts brushing his teeth. He hums small melodies while completing his morning routine to attempt to escape the gloominess of the place. After that, he turns the faucet that has now become unnecessary off and waits for the soldiers, trying to keep himself from setting about using his abilities again. He drums his fingers impatiently on his thighs. He can't help but picture the last time someone has used their powers in the morning, right when the sergeants start marching through the halls. There are supposed to be twelve of them in P1, thirteen if he counts the one in the CR (but they don't talk about _the beast_ , ever). However, through time, there are just eight of them left (excluding _the beast_ ). Four of them, two boys and two girls, have violated the unspoken rule of not using powers in the presence of the sergeants, and have disappeared ever since. Ralph sometimes wonders where they are, but he tells himself it's best not to think about it. Now, there are just seven boys and one girl left, and Ralph actually questions himself why there are three times more boys than girls in P1, but maybe there are more girls somewhere else.

"They're coming!" Shouts the girl in the furthest cell, Ashley. Shuffling sounds echo in the hallway as the door is being unlocked.

"Damn you and your senses, Ash." Eric's voice comes out from his cell and disappears right before the heavy door is pushed open.

A line of armed men walk inside the hall in an almost synchronized rhythm, each holding a large syringe, with the exclusion of one holding a small glass platter with three blue and white pills on it. It's always easy to identify the soldier who will go to Ralph's cell, since he's the one holding the platter. The soldiers stop, one by one, in front of every occupied cell. Ralph sees everyone putting their arm through the small gaps between the metal bars of the doors, getting ready for their injections. He reaches his arm out, careful not to touch the metal bars, for he knows there is electricity running through them, and grabs his pills, then retreats his arm. He places all three of them on his tongue and swallows them dry. He isn't, in any way, allowed to be in contact with any liquid until they are sure his powers are restricted. Ralph personally finds that ridiculous. If that's so, why does he have a faucet in his room with 24/7 running water?

Their logic is definitely crooked. Definitely.

But Ralph stops himself from telling them that every time the thought comes to him. Being able to manipulate liquid is equivalent to quick dehydration, so he can't afford to lose this water source, or else he would be dead the next morning. It's better to ensure that he is alive than poking fun at this kind-of-organization's logic.

The cells' doors open after everyone has taken in their daily amount of _NT-35_. Each of them has a soldier behind, making sure they aren't playing any tricks or trying to escape, as the "authorized personnel" put it. Ralph chuckles at the thought of the word, personnel, he really doesn't understand how they won't just use "people", but then, why does he care anyway? Aside from the _NT-35_ pills he has to take everyday, Ralph also takes other pills for something called _Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder_ , or ADHD. It's because of those pills that he can concentrate to the level necessary to regain a part of his liquid manipulation abilities.

Ralph is distracted, again, by the sound of the door leading to their classroom being pushed open and Jack arguing with one of the soldiers, saying he doesn't need the handcuffs on his way to the classroom because he can't create fire to attack them anyway. Regardless, the soldier insists that he must wear them, since the last time he started raging, he broke an armed soldier's ribcage with his bare hands. Ralph finds that oddly hilarious. Even an armed soldier can't go against Jack's brute strength, but Ralph can defeat him with a flip of his hand, that is if he is fully powered.

Before he even knows it, he has sat down on his chair in the classroom. The class doesn't really study together, since not everyone is the same age. They are divided into two groups, one consisting of sixteen-year-olds and one consisting of fifteen-year-olds. There is one exception, Hugh Backus, or, more commonly known, Piggy. The boy is some sort of prodigy or genius despite his overweight body, therefore, he gets to study with the sixteen-year-olds, or Jack, Ralph, Ashley, and a Filipino-looking boy named Maurice. Jack isn't happy about this "absurdity", and if it wasn't for the lack of colleagues in the class, Jack would have beat Piggy up several times for out-smarting him. The rest of the children, Ralph on most occasions, defend Piggy from Jack's violent tendencies, but everyone decided to keep the nickname Piggy for fun.

Their teachers are variant, ranging from world-famous public speakers as English teachers to scientists who make their careers on _Youtube_ as Science teachers (not that they have any forms of entertainments such as _Youtube_ in their cells, but some of them did watch _Youtube_ before they got thrown in there). They never really meet the same person twice, so they, especially Sam, Eric and Maurice, just assume that all of the teachers are brain-washed to forget that they ever teach here and sent home to continue living their lives. Really, dealing with the paperworks to cover that many people's deaths is a big inconvenience, so they can't possibly murder that many people just for the sake of protecting _PERSES_ 's secret.

Sometimes, Ralph wonders what the "organization" says to their soon-to-be teachers to get them to agree teaching. Maybe they say things like, "Hello, sir/madam, we have a dozen of special children (well, we shot like four of them but that's not the point) and we would like to invite you to teach them stuff. We will give you.. uh.. this beautiful snow globe in return. We guarantee you that we won't dispose of you because the paperwork after that is a fucking burden. We'll just brainwash you, that's all. Wait, did I say brainwash? No, I totally didn't say that. We wouldn't do anything of the kind."

Ralph chuckles quietly at the thought, really, for those people who were taken here how he assumed they were, it must be the worst week ever.

But, like any thoughts that distract him from whatever it is that's happening, they just glide pass like ice skaters on a frozen lake.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And.. it got a little ridiculous at the end.


	3. Another Boy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely not the best chapter ever

Simon Renshaw was never one for conversations. He usually preferred peace and quiet, or basically anything that didn't involve people. Whenever there were people in his house, he would go and watch the birds chirping on the trees in his backyard or something like that, even if it was a million degrees outside. Maybe that was why, even though he never went outside with other people, his skin was colored a deep tan. And maybe that was why he thought his epilepsy actually had benefits. Whenever he passed out, he knew he wouldn't be dealing with people for the next thirty minutes to four hours. They had to leave him alone because the nurses said so, and he was glad that they said it every time he had passed out. 

That was what happened before he was thrown in P1.

Well, it's not really "thrown in", more like "surrendered before even trying to suck the air out of the soldiers surrounding his house in the middle of the night and thrown in". But then, who cares about that part anyway. All he knows is that he is in here now, cell A1579, P1, getting himself experimented on once in a while by people in white lab jackets and actually being a little more social than his normal self. Simon thinks it's the actual lack of people and what has happened to four of the children in P1 that makes him feel the need of company. Or maybe that's just how humans are, sooner or later, they'll want to surround themselves with other humans so they don't feel lonely. 

Simon finds it weird how he can get into those moods when he pulls philosophical things out of his epileptic head.

As he walks out of his cell, _NT-35_ injected in his arm, Simon can hear Jack loudly arguing with a soldier, saying he doesn't need handcuffs. Those kinds of arguments happen almost on a daily basis, because no one is completely happy here. There was one time, a few months ago, when Ralph wasn't totally satisfied about the water quality, and there was also one time when Hugh (Simon is the only one left to call Piggy that) complained about the previous day's dinner for a whole morning. Apparently, Simon himself is the only one who hasn't argue with the soldiers about anything yet. 

Their morning routines are actually just like any normal teenagers. Wake up on time or sooner, otherwise they'll be "gently" woken up by their beds. Ralph made this mistake once, and he was almost electrocuted to death, as he puts it every time he talks about his monstrous bed. Then, they'll take in their recommended-by-doctors amount of _NT-35_. After that, they'll be taken to their classrooms like normal, average, everyday prisoners, with a soldier behind each of them, just in case someone decides to use their no-longer-available abilities to make a grand prison escape. They don't have breakfasts, and will learn whatever it is that's decided to be taught to them until lunch.

Since the children, or "subjects" are not the same age, they are divided into individual age groups, in this case, a fifteen-year-old group and a sixteen-year-old group. The teacher will teach a group for an amount of time, before giving them their works and go on to teach the other group. Simon doesn't really get this way of teaching, but he never questions it. At least then, prodigies like Hugh or egoistical assholes like Jack won't complain that they're underrated. No one really knows that Simon is capable of using profanity. He talks too little and seems too shy, but that doesn't mean he never eavesdrops to conversations and absorbs every foul word escaping Jack's (sometimes Ralph's or Maurice's, too, but normally, it's Jack's) mouth.

When they are all seated, waiting for the teacher of the day, Jack has managed to get his hands out of the cuffs by a string of curses that annoy the soldiers to no end, giving them no choice but to uncuff him. Ralph is already babbling about whatever it is that's appearing in his mind, a proof that he forgot to take his ADHD pills in the morning. Sitting next to Ralph, Ashley is apparently pretending to listen and understand what he has to say, but she's probably drowning in the amount of words the blonde boy can spit out in a minute. 

"Hey Si, what are you looking at?" And then there's Maurice, who never sits down. 

At the other's remark, Simon realizes he has been staring off into space. He shifts his focus to the perky older boy, who has sat next to him since god-knows when.

"I don't know." He replies, shrugging.

"How can you not know what you're staring at?" Maurice states, brushing something off the shoulder of his gray jumpsuit. He puts his elbow on the table and puts his head on his opening palm, looking at Simon like those doctors he often saw before he went in here. "Actually, I used to have a friend who often stared into space, too. But I don't even know where he is now."

In truth, Simon doesn't really care about that friend of Maurice, so he lets the older boy drone on. He does catch some words or phrases, though, like "weird", "sad all the time", "airhead", and so on. What he really cares about is the part where Maurice says his friend "might be in here". What other boy can be in here except for the eight of them and the "authorized people"? But the teacher walks in the class right after that so he never gets to ask Maurice about it. 

They learn Maths today, one of Simon's proclaimed mortal enemies. He has never been good with numbers, not now, not ever. The teacher seems like a famous professor of some sorts since he talks fast and wears oddly formal clothings. Simon gets too confused with the matrices so he just gives up on paying attention. Maybe if the epilepsy acts up now and he faints, he will have a reason to not be here, but it doesn't, so he still has to sit and pretend to listen. After a lecture that appears to have lasted for a thousand years, the teacher hands out a bunch of work sheets, telling them to do the work in there, and when he is finished with the older ones, he will go back to collect the papers.

There are only three of them left in the fifteen-year-old group, Simon and the twin, Sam and Eric. Both of the twins are also quite terrible at Maths, so there is no way Simon can count on them with his work. He isn't trying to get them to do it for him, he just needs a quick recap on what the teacher was lecturing. With all respects, Simon still can't trust these imbeciles. So instead, he spends the whole time thinking about how Maurice's friend can be in P1 and how long this morning is going to be.

But when he is in the dining hall, awaiting his lunch, Simon realizes that their learning session actually passed by pretty quickly. Their lunches are brought to them by probably the same soldiers who "escorted" them to their classroom in the morning. They eat the same food as the soldiers, if not a little bit more (their food intake was increased since the time Hugh complained about the quantity, Simon never understands how the people who locked them in these cells are the same people who might have obliged to their small demands, maybe they've developed a conscience or something similar). Actually, in P1, the soldiers seem to be more well-fed than regular soldiers. Simon, again, has no idea why it's that way. The subjects are practically harmless, so there are no reasons to why these soldiers should be privileged. 

He turns to Maurice, who is hungrily shoving food into his mouth. The older boy is too oblivious to notice him, so Simon decides to start the conversation himself. He rarely does this. He never enjoys talking anyway, but, like a normal human being, he has curiosity.

"So.. how do you know that that friend of yours is in here?" He says, and feels a little light-headed right after that. Simon knows his epilepsy is oftentimes a douche bag and has bad timing, but, really, hitting him when he is curious is just despicable. Maurice's head starts to look like it's shrinking, and Simon can't hear anything even though he knows his friend is speaking. He can see Maurice's mouth moving and he can hear several muffling sounds. Images blur in front of his eyes and Simon tries to stay conscious, but his head hits the ground before he knows it. The blurry, moving people slowly dim out, and all there's left is black.

* * *

As Simon wakes up, he can see a black-haired boy touching his forehead. The boy's face, even if it's blurry, is foreign. Simon can swear he has never seen that boy before in P1. And then there is a loud "thud". The boy falls to the ground, something looking like a syringe stuck in his neck.

Then, Simon falls limp on the white patient bed. 

* * *

When he wakes up again, Simon realizes that he is back in his cell. He slowly sits up, taking a while to get accustomed to the throbbing headache that has somehow decided to stick with him. Simon turns to get out of his bed. The built-in clock on the side of his bed tells him that it's nine in the evening. 

"Is Simon awake yet?" He hears Ralph asking from his cell. The cells are divided into two opposite rows. One going from Jack's cell to Hugh's, the other from the now-vacant A1581 to Ashley's cell. As a result, if Ralph wants to know what is happening to anyone in his row, he will just have to ask people in the opposite row. 

"Yeah, he's awake now." Ashley answers from her cell. 

"You're okay, Simon?" Comes Sam's question.

"I'm fine." Simon replies.

"You know, half an hour after you passed out, there was a commotion of some sort." Hugh says from his cell next to Simon's.

"What commotion?" 

" _The beast_ got out." Sam and Eric say this at the same time, emphasizing on the subject.

Simon freezes for a second. A blurry but foreign face invades his mind. The question arises again. Who is that boy? Why is he in here? 

Is he _the beast_?

"What does it look like?" Simon asks after a long while.

"We don't know, we were taken back here right after that." Ashley says.

"And the soldier who brought you in here–" Sam continues after her.

"–said it almost got you." Eric finishes his brother. It's weird how twins do that as if they can read each other's minds. 

But that is none of Simon's concern right now. His mind is currently revolving around the strange boy. That boy can't possibly be _the beast_ , can he? What if he is?

Is he Maurice's friend?

"Simon. you're okay, right?" Ralph's voice echoes from his cell.

"Yeah." Simon answers him, then lies down on his bed while the others keep talking.

Most of them use the evening, the time when _NT-35_  starts to lose its effects, to use their abilities, mainly to entertain themselves, because at that hour, their powers aren't strong enough to perform fatalities and the speed at which _NT-35_ loses its effect is agonizingly slow. Simon lies on his left, staring at the empty wall in front of him. He opens his palms and place them opposite to each other. Slowly, air starts to move in circles in the space between his palms and form a small tornado-like wind. He looks at it and lets out a small, amused laugh. The wind starts to suck his curly hair in slightly. Simon opens up the gap between his palms. The tornado gradually increases in size, but then disappears. Like Jack, who can't hold a fire for five minutes, Simon can't really form a stable flow of gas yet.

He sigh and turns to lay on his back.

A faint voice starts echoing in his head,but it's not his. Simon thinks he is just hallucinating, then stands up to get a glass of water. But the voice is still there, even if he is hydrated. 

It's not one of those provoking voices mental patients hear in their heads. It's another boy's voice. 

_H.._

Simon can vaguely see a boy figure in front of his eyes.

The boy from before.

 _Help me._ The boy says.


	4. Maybe There Are No Beasts.

For a moment, Simon thinks back to his childhood title of "batty".

Now what is a batty boy like again?

Oh, right, he sees what isn't there and hears voices in his head that tell him to do things.

Simon sighs. Maybe he should complain about the lack of attention in mental healthcare in P1 tomorrow. Then, he will officially join the others as the "complainers of the galaxy". Truly, a master-level plan coming from a genius brain. He lies down on his bed again, realizing that he has skipped dinner and hasn't taken a shower yet. All of the subjects and soldiers have dinner in the dining hall at exactly seven. The meal ends at eight, obviously, there is no whining or begging for dinner after that. Shower, however, can be taken anytime until twelve. Simon glances at the built-in clock again. Eleven twenty-three. He still has time.

Inside every cell, about ten inches above the bed, there is a button that links directly to a team of soldiers in charge of the subjects. If there are any needs, the subjects press the button in their respective rooms, and a soldier will come into the hall to assist them. Simon presses the button, hugs his clothes inside his arms and sits on his bed to wait. The illusion of the other boy has ceased just a moment ago, but the voice still lingers inside his head. It's a small and distant voice that keeps repeating a call for help. Simon gets another drink. Really, hallucinations should leave him alone.

The cell's door opens. An armed soldier stands there, blocking the entrance. That is to ensure that no subjects use this chance to escape. Simon doesn't know how this place is even running with all these half-assed policies, but it's better not to ask.

"I need to take a shower." He says simply. The soldier backs out, letting him go through the door. Simon walks towards the bathroom with the soldier walking one foot behind him.

_Please, I need your help._

The other boy's voice gets stronger all of the sudden. Simon thinks of replying to it mentally. But then he just decides to ignore the voice. There's one voice today, but who knows, maybe a second voice will appear tomorrow. He is batty after all. The soldier makes Simon turn away, then types a code into a keyboard. The "beep" sound seems closer to Simon's ears than how it really is. A card glides pass the receptor that is a little above Simon's head. The door heavily slides open.

The corridor ahead of Simon is pretty dark, but he has gotten used to it, this is not the first time he takes a shower after ten here anyway. He walks outside and heads straight to the bathroom, not a word exchanged to the soldier. The other boy appears in the dark, right in front of him, more vivid than ever.

"Leave me alone." Simon mutters quietly and keeps walking. The illusion doesn't seem to disappear. "I'm not batty, I'm not batty." He whispers to himself. Or maybe he is. He doesn't know anymore.

 _You're not batty, trust me_. The boy speaks after a moment of realization. His voice now echoes behind Simon.

"And why should I do that? My brain is never reliable."

_I'm real._

"I don't trust you. There are no other boys in this place. Why would children be around here anyway? This is a military base. And you're just a voice in my head." Simon starts walking faster to the bathroom. Maybe a shower will help him.

_CR._

"What?"

_Confinement Room. Subject number zero. Ro–_

The boy suddenly stops speaking. Simon turns around to see his face contorting into a painful expression. He falls to his knees, doubled over, eyes open wide as his image gets more and more blurry. Then, he disappears, leaving Simon standing there like a statue, baffled. He slowly turns and takes the rest of his walk to the bathroom. As the cold water hits his face, Simon slightly shrugs. Maybe he isn't batty for real. Simon adjusts the water's temperature until it returns to warm. His eyes are focused in nowhere.

It is rumored that the _Confinement Room_ is where they keep a beast.

But how can a beast look so much like a boy?

And why is that boy _beast_ asking Simon for help?

* * *

Simon walks into his cell after the shower. The soldier locks his cell up, then walks out, carefully closing the hall's door. He lies on his back again. There are no voices bothering him now. He sighs again. If it's just an illusion, then his brain is doing a pretty swell job at tricking him. But if _the beast_ as he knows it is a telepathic boy communicating with him, practically _begging_ him for help, then, well, Simon doesn't actually know what to do in that case. Has it been Ralph, Jack, Piggy, or anyone other than him, they would have known what to do.

And if he tells them, will he be deemed insane and go back to being the batty boy everyone loves to ridicule?

If it's just his brain, then what exactly _is_ the beast?

Questions bounce around his mind like children in a balloon castle. This, Simon thinks, is precisely why he never gets involved with people. Everything is just too complicated. It's hard dealing with his own business already. Getting caught up in other people's matter is even worse. Just why does he have to pass out right before that boy escapes from the _CR_? Is this basically a _Deus ex Machina_ detail for the boy or what? Maybe he should change his name to _Simon ex Machina._

This is when Simon realizes he has been displaying symptoms of the _Chronic Complaining Disorder_ that he might have gotten from Jack. Maybe he should just share. He can give them each a kick in the behind tomorrow. Simon is taller than most of them anyway (except for Jack, Ralph, and Maurice), puberty magic.

And then the thought crosses his mind.

Is _the beast_ Maurice's friend?

Simon can remember that boy's face quite clearly. Maybe, just maybe, Maurice was right.

 _The beast_ is not a _beast_. Has never been.

"Maurice." Simon calls out. "You're still up?"

"Yeah, I'm still up? Why?" The reply comes after a moment of silence. Their voices echo around the hall, only accompanied by the slight chuckles of Sam, Eric, Ralph, and Jack.

"Remember that friend of yours you told me about this morning?"

"Yeah, what's about him?" Maurice's voice sounds intrigued.

"What does he look like?" It's only after having said this does Simon realize how weird and queer this sounds. He earns himself some giggles from Sam and Eric.

"Since when were you into dudes, Si?" Sam asks from his cell, still in his laughing fit with Eric.

"I'm not, I just.. found out something today." It has occurred to Simon that he may regret his decision of sharing later on, but, for now, he is just going to stick with it.

"Is it related to the _CR_?" Surprisingly, Maurice starts sounding serious. Or maybe Simon is delusional and only believes so because Maurice suddenly speaks in a smaller volume.

"Yes." Despite his concrete belief that he is a little paranoid, Simon finds himself also softening his voice.

"Then–"

_[All subjects shut up and go to sleep.]_

Maurice is cut off by a sergeant's harsh voice through the loudspeaker at the top corners of the room. Simon wonders how long they have been listening to their conversations and how the sergeant doesn't know how to use professional words, but he wards all those questions aside and turns to his right, facing the wall. Maybe he'll ask Maurice about this tomorrow.

Simon just hopes he is being overly paranoid right now and he won't be shot in secret the second he wakes up.

* * *

When they bring the battered body into the CR, the boy has already passed out.

It took two teams of twenty men to stop this monster, and when they finally did, more than half of them were dead. Only until someone succeeded firing an _NT-35_ bullet into his neck did the soldiers get a small advantage. The casualties are unbearable, and they are still cleaning up blood in the hallway, but what has to be done is done. The escaped _beast_ has been recaptured.

The armed soldier wearing a uniform stained with his comrades' blood carries the boy on his shoulder like a sack of nothing but worthlessness. He almost throws the boy back down to his bed, or maybe he did throw the boy down, but he did it just little more gently. The boy winces a little at his back makes contact with the bed. A middle-aged woman in a white lab jacket starts strapping the boy back into the bed. She then proceeds to stick needles in his arms and legs. Each of these needles is connected to a tube where a dark blue liquid flows through. The boy's limbs start twitching as he takes in the liquid. His brows furrow and he grimaces in pain. His eyes snap open wide when he feels an electric current starts running through him.

"Make.. it.. stop.. P–" The slopes of the lines on the monitor screen increase drastically "–please.." The boy tries desperately to lift his head up, but the strap on his neck has prevented him from doing so. His pale face turns red as agonizing screams escape his throat, tearing through the sterilized air in the room.

"I wish I could, dear," the woman lowers to his ear and whispers into it. "Oh, wait, no, I don't." She turns away with the screams over-powering her silvery laugh. " _Beasts aren't meant to be loved, honey_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Indeed, a very creative chapter title.


	5. Different Schedule

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is excessively long because who doesn't love the asshole ginger in action?

Jack Ignatius Merridew is annoyed.

Maybe even more than so. He seriously hates how the small chain links clank to each and every of his steps, and how his arm twitches slightly right after the _NT-35_ injection, and how that soldier behind him stares at him as if he is going to commit homicide. He also despises the fact that he is still angry and frustrated with life even if he isn't really living it right now. Or maybe he just hates this place in general, so much he can burn it down in an instant.

Well, he can, but maybe in another occasion, when he isn't affected by this damn neuro-tranquilizer that they always make such a big deal about and when his friends aren't also in the same hall with him. Getting accustomed to their unnerving shuffles each night is, to Jack, enough for them to be quite close friends. Difficult circumstances do, indeed, bring people together.

The door to the classroom is pushed open. Jack raises his cuffed hands up to the soldier standing behind him, signaling for them to be taken off of his wrists. The soldier complies, not out of kindness or anything like that, but out of fear. The pure fear of what Jack is capable of doing, even with his hands cuffed together. Jack is more than comfortable with that. He enjoys the frightened look people get every time they hear of him or his name, not just people here, but the neighbors back in Aberdeen, too. Once his hands are free, Jack walks into the class, running a hand through his mop of curly, red hair to make sure they aren't everywhere, like how they usually are. He takes his seat next to Ralph's, accidentally hearing him and Piggy talking about the unusual absence of Simon.

To say that the boy might be sick is entirely wrong, considering what he's talked about with the other boys at night a few days ago. Jack wants to contribute into that conversation, but he knows he can't. They are always being watched, even if they are aware of it or not. Jack is actually surprised that Simon isn't missing sooner, since what he talks about sounds like a classified information. Out of all of them, he is the only one who knows what is actually going on here. A military base is a military base, after all.

Jack is pulled out of his thoughts when Ralph snaps his fingers. He turns to look at his blonde friend. Ralph is actually staring at him worriedly, as if he hasn't been eating lately, which he probably has. It's one of the side effects of the "new and improved" drug they make him take each night, when the soldier comes in to change the jumpsuit on his hanger. This drug isn't consumed by any of the other subjects, even _the beast_.

Jack is also the only one of the subjects who knows the true identity of _the beast_.

 _The beast_ is not a beast. That is unless you're in its bad books.

"Jack, you're okay right?" Ralph asks him with a concerned look on his face. "I mean, you're kinda off lately. It's like you're in a weird, different _Jack's world_ or something."

"Yeah, I guess I'm okay. Just the side effects." Jack replies, turning his head to stare at the board at the front of the class. Now that he has realized it, a painful headache is pounding repeatedly in his head. Just a side effect. Of course it has to be. Whatever plastic orange bottle that is on his sink, it says, "Side effects: Loss of appetite, Severe Headaches, Nausea and Sleeplessness." Jack is honestly not surprised about the headache. Maybe his anger fits are actually caused by that drug.

"What side effects? I never skip meals because of _NT-35_." Ashley has somehow slipped into the conversation. She tucks a brown, curly lock behind her ear.

"Maybe it's different on everyone." Piggy is also talking. As much as Jack hates to accept that fat blob's opinion, he had to, unless he wants to tell everyone he is taking pills that reduce the effects of _NT-35_ to some extent and goes to the bottom floor almost every night to do god-knows-what.

Maurice is unusually silent. However, to Jack, he seems to be getting the hang of the reason why Simon is absent today. They have all seen him asleep in his room, but the bed didn't "wake him up", and the soldiers didn't, either. He was just left there. Maybe he is being taken away now. Jack considers running off to the bottom floor and confronting those people about that right now. It isn't a part of their deal. They are not supposed to touch any of his friends, even the fat one. But, again, they have groups of armed men carrying guns loaded with tranquilizer bullets and _NT-35_ , and he is by himself, with only his brute strength. This deal is personal no matter what. He can't let the others know about it. That will endanger them.

"What do you think is going to happen to Simon?" Ralph speaks again, looking to the board. Just from the tone of his voice, Jack can tell that his friend doesn't want to think about it. Ralph knows what will happen, but he chooses to pretend that he isn't aware. Jack, however, faces it. He has seen the soldiers shooting the subjects mercilessly right in front of his face. He knows what is going to happen to Simon. And he knows Ralph knows it too.

Jack turns to Ralph just to see the boy already talking about something else to Piggy and Maurice. He intentionally forgot to drink his ADHD pills again, Jack thinks, to try not to think about the cruelty. The redhead sighs. He doesn't know if Ralph is lucky or just miserable now as he chooses not to face whatever it is that's bothering him, even though he knows more than anyone that he has to face it no matter what.

The door to the classroom is pushed open again. Their teacher of the day walks in. She looks like an English teacher with that heavy-looking bag filled with blue books. Even though she seems too young to be a teacher, no one appears to care. They've had younger teachers in the past, as young as seventeen, one of those prodigies like Piggy. The teacher doesn't bother introducing her name. She just goes around, placing the books in front of everyone, and goes back to her desk at the front of the class on the left of the board.

Jack stares at the book and flinches. The book is light blue in color with two clouds, one black, one white on top of each other. The title _The Fault in Our Stars_ is on the black cloud, looking like it is written in crayon. The author's name, John Green, is on the other cloud, also in that crayon-like font.

"What the fuck is this?" He says it immediately, receiving stares from the others and a glare from the teacher.

"Wait, you've never _heard_ of it?" Sam asks, giggling, then realizes Jack has has two years less of pop culture than him.

"It's a famous book and it basically makes you cry like a baby." Eric explains, earning an approving nod from the teacher. She is also reading the same book, and she currently seems to be at about the middle of the book.

"Well, they told me I could teach you or just bring books for you guys to read, as long as they're not books like _The Girl with All The Gifts_ so I brought these. At least I'm not making you guys read _Twilight_." The teacher says, then goes back to reading her book. "Oh, and just keep the books, I'm not a book hoarder so I'm not taking those back."

Jack can already see Ashley reading the third page. She seems to be interested. Ralph is also slowly picking up the book and starts reading it. Piggy straight up neglects the book and starts drawing random squares and numbers on the pages. Maurice turns to Sam and Eric, asking if there are any pages with a sex scene. They tell him it's about page two hundred and sixty nine or something like that. Jack sighs, reluctantly picks the book up and turns to page one.

_Jack, help._

Suddenly, he hears a faint voice somewhere. He turns to Ralph, the boy is still reading the book. There are no signs from Sam or Eric either, not even Piggy. He then remembers another boy he has made friend with. Not Simon, but someone sounding like that. Jack stands up, telling the teacher he needs to go to the bathroom and leaves the room, not even waiting for his "escorting soldier".

_Jack, you're there?_

_Yeah, say it._ Jack mentally replies. He heads to the restroom, pretending to be in a bad situation.

 _He..help me.._ The other boy sounds like he is crying, or near so. His breath, even if it is mental, is quick and uneven _. They.._

Jack bursts inside the restroom, opens a door and gets in, then locks it. He pushes the toilet's lid down and sits on top of it. _Are they trying to cut you open again? Or are they injecting you with something weird?_

_No, none of that, but th– they're– they're going to shock Simon, right in front of me. And they're making me watch it, and– and–_

"You in there, are you done?" A soldier knocks on the door in front of him, and Jack is too furious to even think of manner, not that he really has any.

"Shut up! I'm taking a shit! What's your problem?" He shouts it out, then goes back to replying to the other. _Are they doing it?_

_Haven't done it, but they will in five minutes. J– Jack, help, I can't do anything. I want to, but I can't._

_Calm down, where are you?_

_CR._

Needing only that, Jack stands up, flushes the toilet so that his taking-a-shit ordeal seems real, and unlocks the door to walk out. He leans pass the soldier and begins heading out of the restroom, the armed man walking right behind him. Jack calculates the route in his head, then slowly increases his pace. He looks at the shiny metal bars in front of him, studying the distance, all the while speeding up. His heart beats faster at the thought of what he is about to do, and when he has reached a certain distance from the soldier, Jack starts running. He can hear the heavy footsteps of the soldier following him, as well as the sound of him speaking into the intercom asking for reinforcement. Jack turns left, running to exactly the direction he has intended to run. The sounds of footsteps behind him get louder as more men start joining the other soldier in the chase. Personally, Jack just hopes that no one is blocking in front of him. As he keeps running, Jack sees an elevator at the end of the road. He needs to get there.

Jack increases his speed as he makes a dash for the elevator. His body crashes into its steel doors, giving off a loud thud. He finds the control panel and frantically reaches for the "down" button. He almost smashes the panel so that the door will open faster. The soldiers are about to start shooting. Jack can hear their warnings from afar. His mouth starts gasping for air as the adrenaline starts losing effects and his lungs start realizing the body's exhausted state. The elevator's doors slowly slide open, revealing the space inside. Jack waits for the gap to get large enough and leans to get in. That is also when he hears the guns start firing. The men are still far away, but the door is now opening wide, allowing bullets to go in. Jack hides behind the sides of the elevator's door, repeated slamming his finger into the "close" button. The doors slide toward each other lazily, as if they are intentionally irritating Jack. Bullets keep flying in and whizzing in the air, one of them almost hits him, and after a considerably long amount of time, the two metal panels finally close up. Jack takes a deep breath before pressing the button on which number indicates the downmost floor. He then leans on the back of the elevator to relax a little and somewhat regain his strength.

**_[Access Code?]_ **

Jack hears the computer's robotic voice asking him. He gulps in some more air.

" **Merridew01**."

**_[Confirmed]_ **

The elevator starts moving downward. The light on top of the ceiling flickers a little. Maybe a bullet has hit it somehow. Jack slides down the metal wall of the elevator on his back. He just hopes that they haven't started yet. To what Jack knows, that method is used to force people into forgetting what they saw. It's basically the shock therapy in mental asylums. Knowing the punishment for their actions will condition people's responses, stopping them from doing whatever it is they are not supposed to do, because they know that if they do it, they will receive the punishment. Jack stands up straight again as the elevator's floor touches the bottom of P1. The metal doors slide open and Jack is greeted with the acutely loud screams and the occasional shouts from behind the one way mirror. He knows he is late, but he still has to stop it. Jack storms in, despite the curious stares of the people around, and runs to the electric portals to unplug every single cord.

"What do you think you're doing?" The man in the lab coat runs over to stop him. Soldiers start rushing in from all directions. Jack pauses for a moment, then stares straight at the man, his eyes so fiery he looks as if he can burn this place down for real. Even Simon, who is sitting in the electric chair, strapped, is trying to turn his head back.

"And what the fuck do _you_ think you're doing assholes?" Jack shouts at the man, fighting himself to resist the urge of wanting to burn this place down, leaving its ashes forever stuck in the ground it is built in. He cracks his fingers, breathing heavily. "What is it with you and not respecting deals anyway? I gave you my motherfucking body to do all kinds of Frankenstein experiments on and you keep murdering my fucking friends. How's that called a fair deal? The deal is you not touching my friends, _shitbrain_ , learn English." Lashing out loudly, Jack starts approaching the man. The soldiers around him start loading their guns. Clicking sounds echo around the room, but Jack doesn't seem to be bothered about it anymore.

"Calm down, Jack, we're only doing what is necessary." The man says, gesturing for the soldiers to put their guns down. They hesitantly obey.

"And you're making _him_ watch it? What kind of fucked-up double punishment _is this_?" Knowing his advantage, Jack keeps talking. By now, Simon must have known it is him.

"He's just escaped–"

"I don't give a shit. He's a fifteen-year-old boy with the mind of an eleven-year-old and that's not enough for you?" Jack grits his teeth. His face is so red all of th freckles seem to have disappeared. He lets out threateningly harsh breaths and his bony hands are already forming fists. "Of course he has to panic if you people keep _torturing_ him like that. Now, at least let Simon go."

The room is silent for a while. The only vibration in the air is Jack's heavy breath and his inconsistent heartbeat. The soldiers raise their guns toward him again, the sounds of metal clanking send chills down Jack's spine, despite the fierce expression on his face. The man in the lab coat seems to be thinking of something. He leans into Jack's ears and whispers almost inaudible words. The redhead's face contorts into doubtfulness, then, he nods, slowly. The man signals for the soldiers to put their guns down again as he walks over to Simon and frees the boy. Once freed, Simon walks tentatively to Jack. The both of them go side by side back to the elevator without another word.

Jack pushes Simon into the elevator's cabin. He only relaxes his muscles when the doors are closed. The red-headed boy lets out a breath of relief. He turns to the other boy.

"You're good?" He asks him.

"I.. guess? They only shocked once, and I'm still shaking a bit." Simon shyly avoids Jack's stare. He doesn't exactly enjoy owing people anything, especially if what he owes is his life. "Thank you."

"Yeah, he's saying that too." Jack replies. Even if he is being ambiguous enough to not name the subject, Simon understands who he is talking about. That boy's voice is still in his head. The way Jack can still talk to the boy even if he is under the effect of _NT-35_ is called a permanent mental bond. It allows two people to talk to each other mentally at anytime and anywhere.

"What's his name? I never got to know. They only referred to him as _zero_ in there."

The elevator reaches their classroom's floor and the doors move apart smoothly, allowing the two of them to get out. They stroll along the hallway, finding their way back to the classroom. Maybe they are still in there reading that stupid tearjerking novel. He can't have been gone for that long, can he?

"Jack?" Simon tugs at Jack's arm.

"Huh?"

"What's that boy's name?"

"Roger."

"Oh, and one more thing." Jack suddenly snatches Simon's arm, yanking him back before he reaches the door.

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell _anyone_ about what you saw down there. Not Sam, not Eric, not Maurice, not Ashley, not _Ralph_. Especially Ralph. Don't tell him anything."

Simon seems puzzled, but eventually, he nods.

They push the door to the classroom open. Ralph is having his eyes glued to the blue book. Ashley shares the same fate with him. Sam, Eric, and Maurice have given up on reading, and Piggy has fallen asleep on the table. The teacher is sniffling. Maybe she is reading a particularly sad part. Jack decides that maybe he will read this book sometimes at night. He knows he can't possibly be moved by something as silly as a book.

"Are they reading.. _The Fault in Our Stars_?" Simon timidly asks before taking his seat next to Sam and Eric. He stares at everyone, clearly confused.

"Shut up, Simon, they're in Amsterdam." Ralph hushes Simon, then goes back to reading the book. Jack always knows Ralph can read at supersonic speed, but he isn't completely sure why his blonde friend can focus on the book for the perplexingly long amount of time in which he has been gone.

" _What?_ "

Maybe, Jack guesses, it's the power of cancerous teenagers and the crayon-like fonts.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apology to John Green for all of Jack's comments about his novel in this chapter.


	6. A Day In The Life of Hugh

If there is anything living for fifteen years has taught Hugh, it is that mornings are dreadful because they hate him. Being used to sleeping in like a cat, the schedule in P1 still bothers him a great deal until this day. But tomorrow is Saturday so he still has something to look forward to. The weekends mean one more hour of sleep until he has to get up and do whatever it is he wishes, which is getting more sleep. Sometimes, Hugh thinks he might actually turn into a cat with all these need for sleep. Then, he will just simply recall how nice cat ladies are to comfort himself. At least, if he is an actual cat, he will most likely have a kind (and lonely, considering how cat ladies are usually single) owner.

Everyone else, however, has another idea of what Hugh will be if he turns into an animal. It's said clear as day in his nickname, _Piggy_. A pig. Because he is fat.

To be fair, though, his auntie was the first to call him that, but it was a cute pet name with the inclusion of "my little". She owned quite a large bakery on the street and usually treated him with her baked goods. The children visiting the place were lovely and they liked playing with him when their parents were busy paying for their families' usual loaves of bread. Growing up, Hugh realized how mean children can actually be. They mostly judge you from your appearance, and when they heard his auntie saying goodbye to him, pet name inserted, they also started calling him Piggy. Soon enough, Piggy wasn't adorable anymore. No one seemed to remember his real name. He wasn't Hugh Backus, he was Piggy. At school, he was pushed around, he ate lunch alone. At least the teachers liked him because he was a math prodigy, even if they also called him Piggy at times. Of course they did, after all, everyone hated that one fat, uncool kid with "ass-mar".

But that was how he discovered another gift of his, other than mathematics and problem-solving skills. Somehow, in fourth grade, he was able to ward off others by accidentally making a rock wall rise up from the ground and surround him. He didn't understand how he did that then, but by the time he started sixth grade, he was able to make a rock mountain of more than a hundred feet with a little more than a snap of his fingers. And that was what got him in P1.

Staring straight at the mirror, Hugh admits that he is not exactly the fittest person on Earth. He still looks as plump as he used to before he was in here, only taller. The gray jumpsuit that looks baggy on others is one inch away from being one of those tight bodysuits ballet dancers wear. He opens the faucet and lets water flow into the glass. Once the glass is full, he closes the faucet and begins squeezing toothpaste on his toothbrush. He does this in an almost drowsy state, since he does this everyday, it's almost like a reflex to him.

As he brushes his teeth, he once again watches himself closely in the mirror. The toothpaste is starting to form foams in his mouth. His eyes move upward to a row of acne close to his hairline. They are prominent and red against his skin that has turned pale during his time here with little to no contact with sun light whatsoever. They are going through puberty, so the acne problem is not something they didn't expect. Maurice also has them, somewhere under his bang of chocolate brown hair, and one on his neck, too. Ashley is another one who suffers from that problem. She has a few zits on the top of her left cheek and near her right eyebrow. Jack has his freckles to take care of, so Hugh doesn't care much for his acne problem. And he can actually say that everyone has blemishes on their bodies, everyone but one.

Of course it has to be Ralph who has the perfectly smooth skin. No one really understands why, but that blonde boy is practically flawless. Hugh admires him, the way Ralph can always be so beautiful, and how he manages to be perky even in his gloomy cell, and how the blonde stands up for him all the time. He especially adores that last bit of how perfect Ralph is, and, at the same time, is puzzled by how a faultless blonde boy can protect him, an asthmatic, near-sighted, obnoxious blob of fat, like what he children from his childhood used to call him.

Not forgetting to grab his inhaler, Hugh walks to the hanger in front of his bed that has the clean jumpsuit. He wonders when they are going to make larger ones so his won't at least make him look like a walking seal. He changes his clothes quickly, then puts his inhaler in the pocket on his chest. It's never certain when he will get an asthma attack, so he has to be ready. The soldier is already waiting for him outside, so he goes in front of his cell's door and holds his arm out through a gap. The first month he was here, he would wince and let out a squeak every time they injected _NT-35_ in his arm, but now, he is familiar with the feeling of the large needle in his arm and the slight twitching that comes after the liquid has been pushed inside his artery.

The cell's door opens. Hugh walks out in front of the soldier and behind the sergeant, waiting for the man to open the door and lead them to their classroom. It's the same procedure that has been repeating for roughly four years now, and if he is tired of it, he just has to either keep it to himself or deal with it. There is no way these people are changing their whole four-year schedule for him, especially when they have granted his wish for better (and more) food, which reduces his amount of "Genie wishes" to zero. There is an unspoken rule here. If you're a subject, with the exception of _the beast_ , you get one demand of yours accepted, and then the soldiers don't hear you out anymore, despite how much you complain. Hugh prefers calling those demands "Genie wishes". However, they have some limits to them, for example, you can't ask for a TV, and they don't involve getting out of P1.

Hugh has already had his "Genie wish", and that is better food, and now he doesn't think his complaints have any impact on those people anymore. Sam has also had his "Genie wish", as in the candies that he receives each month (he refuses to share those with anyone but Eric). Maybe Ashley has had her wish, too, or maybe the mysterious packages of white, sticky pads that are sent to her from about the fifteenth to the twenty-second of each month are just essential women's stuff. It's weird, though. During those times, Ashley is usually mad for no reason, and is also a little too sensitive. Hugh may be gifted with mathematics skills, but he has no idea when it comes to women's psychology and biology.

Right when his mind is wandering to what Jack and Maurice usually refer to as _Ashley's Hell Days_ , the teacher calls his name to get his attention back into the lesson.

"As I was saying, there are loads of problems that can occur to your lungs, and asthma is one of the primary examples of that." The teacher continues with a somewhat disinterested voice. She looks like a doctor, or at least a pharmacist.

"Piggy has ass-mar!" Sam, who has apparently been eavesdropping on whatever it is the older boys are learning, immediately interrupts.

One of the things Hugh hates the most about the other boys is that they always seem to mispronounce "asthma" on purpose. Maybe it's just a reason for them to safely say "ass" in their sentences, he'll never know, but the mispronunciation just bothers him to no end. And maybe that's one of the few parts he likes about Jack. That red-haired boy has already sworn so much, he doesn't even need to censor his profanities in class anymore. Everyone knows is capable of saying foul words, so he never needs a reason to add "ass" in his sentences, most of them have probably included the word already.

"Oh, really?" The teacher is trying to add some excitement in the tone of her voice, but fails miserably. "Won't you tell us how you got it?"

"It runs in my family." Hugh replies simply, then hears Jack chuckling, as if it is an actually funny statement.

"No one runs in your family." The red-headed boy says between his chuckles. "You fat fuck." This earns laughter from Sam, Eric, and Maurice. They know he doesn't mean it, but they just laugh, and, in this room, who can resist the temptation of laughter as badly as them?

The teacher seems slightly annoyed by the interruption.

Maybe if it was the first days he was here, Hugh would have stormed off, but now, he just feels a little offended. Jack often jokes about him during class, probably because he can't stand having to be at the same level as a boy one year younger than him. Hugh is okay with it now that he is accustomed.

Despite that, Jack is still elbowed by Ralph.

"Say sorry to him." The words are accompanied by a slight frown on the blonde's face.

"Come on, why should I? It was a fucking joke." Jack, as usual, denies responsibility. This, thinks Hugh, is the ginger pride showing its true form.

"Apologize." Ralph is determined on getting Jack to say sorry. Hugh really enjoys moments like these, and he admires Ralph even more after they happen.

" _It was a joke_." The red-head is also pretty resolute.

"You trampled on his self-esteem."

"What are you, now? A hypocritical sixty years old man? You also call him Piggy, ass."

Ralph says nothing more and just stares at Jack with eyes that spell "Apologize". Jack sends him back puzzled gaze, and they keep staring at each other so intensely it burns holes. Neither of them are blinking, but, soon enough, Jack's eyelids give up. He blinks a couple more times to readjust his eyes, and sighs in defeat.

"Fine, I'll apologize."

* * *

Hugh is woken up in the middle of the night by Ralph's loud sobs in his cell. Maybe it's a bad dream or something similar, though he never recalls hearing the blonde boy crying in his sleep. He lazily turns to his side and tries his best to look out from the gaps created by the metal bars on the door. It seems like trying to see what is going on isn't the best idea, since he can't see anything without his glasses anyway, so Hugh decides to listen in on the others' conversations to get some information.

"Ralph, what the actual fuck?" He can catch Jack's sleepy groan even if he is five cells away. Ralph has somewhat calmed down at this point, even though he still lets out some small sniffles once in a while.

"What happened?" There comes Simon's voice, a much more sympathetic sound. Or maybe it's just how that boy's voice is. But Ralph stays silent.

"I'm depressed now." The blonde says after a while. His voice is still a little shaky, but it feels like he's gotten better.

"What's wrong?" Jack's voice softens evidently. Hugh wonders why that is, but again, everyone in here is a mystical creature. That's why they are locked in. Because they're different. Because every person on Earth must be a carbon copy of each other.

"No one told me he'd die. And he died, and now I'm sad." Ralph bursts out again.

Hugh can almost see the ocean blue eyes brimming with tears. Maybe it's something from his past life that he never wants to mention but it keeps coming up and haunting him. Maybe it's a significant person. Or maybe, just maybe.

"Who died?" Maurice's curious voice is what comes next.

Maybe it's the book.

"Augustus Waters."

"Who?"

"The main character."

Precisely, it _is_ the book. Even though he hasn't fully read it, Hugh knows enough about the book to be aware who the main characters are. He understands that Ralph can be a little too hyperactive at times, but now, even his emotions are running everywhere. The blonde boy also can't focus well, but when he actually focuses, usually under the influence of his prescribed drugs, he becomes a Jedi. Perhaps that explains the reason to his intense emotions when he is devoted to something.

"Can you _cut the crap_ for the love of God?" Jack yells in frustration. It's weird how his mood swings are so rapid he can change from concerned to enraged in a second. "You're like a teenage girl obsessing over boy bands."

"What if he is?" Maurice states as if it's the most blatant thing ever, earning approving giggles from all around him. The fun continues for a while before the hall settles down again. It gets so silent Hugh can swear he hears Simon talking to somebody. It's clearly not Ralph, Maurice or Ashley. There are no replies either, and if there are, the replies are irrelevant enough to not belong in Simon's conversation. Hugh guesses that the boy is maybe just talking in his sleep.

"We'll get you out alright," Simon whispers to a presumably nonexistent person. "Don't worry. You'll be okay." He continues. "I promise."

It's funny. No one seems to question why Simon is still here, safe and sound, even though he has shown all signs that he was about to be gotten rid of in the morning. Hugh decides that he will ask, someday.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not the best title, I know, but I suck at titles. Also, I apologize for the romantic Jalph tease, because there will be no actual romantic Jalph in this thing.
> 
> And Piggy, please stay away from women's biology. What you'll learn may scar you for life.


	7. He Knew It

The black-haired boy tries his hardest to scream, but, with his mouth under a restraint mask, it seems like his attempts are useless. He wiggles on his wheelchair, but nothing makes it less impossible to undo all the straps and run away from this place as far as possible. He can feel himself being pushed to somewhere, but he doesn't exactly know where. Maybe it'll be a blindingly white room with only wires and metal syringes and sterilized knives. Maybe it's the room of the woman who has claimed she could help him, but never does; the room with a table loaded with files and documents, and a leather-covered chair, and a brunette woman in a white jacket. Or they might take him to that room with a mirror and a few blunt objects where he can use a small part of his powers, but he decides that it's not likely, since he tries to escape from this place every time they put him in there.

Whatever room he is going to, the boy doesn't enjoy these trips. He doesn't like it in the _CR_ , either. It's always too bright or too dark in there, and, ever since the last time he escaped, they have changed from strapping him in the bed to chaining his arms to the wall and constantly pumping that restraining liquid in his body. If he tries to get away or uses his powers to do so, the chains tighten and heat up and burn his wrists. He wants to ask Jack for help, but they don't want the same thing. The voice of the woman who watches him everyday is still echoing in his head. She said if he even had the slightest idea of telling Jack, she would do something really bad to him, and Jack, and he wouldn't want to know what that is. All he wants is to get out of this hellhole, but it doesn't look like he's getting there.

He hears a door clicking open. The sack covering his face is removed and he sees the brunette woman. It's funny, to him, how she always claims that she can help him, but he doesn't know what she wants to help with when all she does is talk, talk, _talk_. He flinches as the light from the lamp on her table shines directly at his eyes. The woman smiles at him warmly like how she does it every time he visits her. That is the one thing he might like about that woman. The bright and sunny smile just reminds him so much of an old friend, a brunet boy who had insisted on playing with him even when every other child in that orphanage either stayed really far away from him or shoved him around a couple of times.

The soldier behind him removes his restraint mask, letting his mouth make contact with the somewhat chilly air in the room. His straps, however, remain. The soldier then walks away just far enough so that he can't hear them, but can still protect the woman if _the worse one_ shows up.

 _The worse one_ is what earns him the title of _the beast_. It comes and goes so abruptly it feels like a ghost, even if it's there, always there. If there is one thing he knows about _the worse one_ , it's that it likes blood. It likes that red liquid so much it will show up almost every time he sees blood. He knows _the worse one_ is still him, but he just can't seem to control it, and that's the worst part about it. There is a few rare occasions when he switches repeatedly between it and himself, and every time that happens, it just drives him insane. _The worse one_ talks in his head sometimes, too, and he has to either reply to it or ignore it. But, when he ignores it, it tries to talk louder, making it hard for him to hear his own thoughts, so he has no other choice than to reply to it.

Maybe that's why he is written in the files as _mentally unstable_.

The woman waves her hand in front of his face to ensure that he is listening to her. He never gets around to learning her name, or maybe he's just too busy with his own mind to remember that name. But, in his defense, he isn't even sure who he really is. Granted, he knows his own name, Roger, but does it even mean anything?

He moves his hand a little in the tight strap, revealing the new skin that is forming around his wrist. He has tried escaping from those chains once or twice. It wasn't a pleasant experience, quite the contrary, actually. The woman stares at his healing burn, eyes suddenly turn concerning. She asks the soldier to come there and unstrap one of his arms so that she can take a look. The soldier reluctantly follows.

Once his right arm is free, the woman takes it in her hand and examines. His arm seems strangely frail in her hand, even though she, herself, is a petite woman. Her eyebrows furrow a little.

"What is this?" She asks the soldier, disregarding the fact that the information she wants to know might be classified.

"It's a new restraint method, Doctor Joyce."

Roger thinks he will remember this name, at least for a while.

"How can you do this to a boy?" She stands up in discontentment, anger glinting from her eyes as she lets the boy's arm free fall to his lap.

"Doctor, he is not a–"

" _Who the fuck_ knows what he's been through to be pushed to this extent? He is a fifteen-year-old boy with the mind of an eleven-year-old! You are _not_ helping him if you're doing this to him. You're _torturing_ him."

For a split second, Doctor Joyce doesn't sound like her unhelpful self in previous visits. She sounds a little more like Jack, and the strings of curses she is blasting out soothes Roger somehow. The soldier speaks into his walkie talkie, then goes to the wheelchair, strapping Roger back in and putting his mask, as well as the sack that covers his head, back in their places.

Something tells Roger he isn't going to see Doctor Joyce anymore. It's a bit disappointing, really, he has just learnt her name.

* * *

Maurice is apparently suffering from an existential crisis.

No one seems to find him funny anymore, even the soldiers who actually joke with him sometimes. Sam and Eric don't talk to him as often, and they just talk to each other secretively now. Even Ralph, who is too social to be here, isn't laughing at his jokes at much. It feels like, after hearing Simon's unfinished news about his friend who might be here, Maurice can't make decent jokes anymore. But if that is, then, what is his purpose in life at this moment? And does that mean if he gets to know what Simon was about to tell him before being so rudely interfered by the sergeant, he can be humorous again?

The brunet boy decides to make that his life purpose, for now.

Right as the siren echoes around the hall, Maurice jumps out of his bed. This has become some sort of a habit since his first year of being here. After all, the last thing he wants is to be fried alive on that sad excuse for a bed. Maurice glances outside and sees no soldiers coming in. He has thirty minutes left.

Hastily, he brushes his teeth and changes his clothes. These actions are also parts of his everyday habits, and they need to be done fast so that he will have enough time to play around with his powers before they get taken away. Maurice briefly runs his hand through his puffy brown hair to try and untangle them, then looks into the mirror to check if he has any trails of drool on his chin (he drools a lot when he sleeps). Then, he sits down in the middle of his cell.

Even if he never pays much attention in class, being able to manipulate gravity teaches Maurice a decent amount about the force. He knows that if he makes gravity affect him less, he will be able to jump higher, or maybe even fly. He is also aware that he can crush someone's lungs simply by making gravity affect them more; he has actually done it once, and he never does it again. (Changing the rotation of the Earth, however, requires a much higher level of power that he might never have.) Maurice knows what he can do with the force that he manipulates, but, for now, he is trying to lift a cup, or at least make it float in the air a little before dropping to the ground.

Maurice lets his hands hover above the cup for a dramatic display even though he knows he can achieve the same result just by staring at the cup intensely. He decides that, between the two, he opts for the first one since it's not as creepy. Plus, Ralph also "drives" the water out of the sink with wavy hand gestures that are even more dramatic, so Maurice thinks he is safe from judgements.

The cup shakes a little bit, then is slowly lifted up. It doesn't exactly go to his direction, or anywhere he really wants it to go, it just floats in the air like a space craft or something like that. And when objects float in the air under the effects of his gravity manipulation, Maurice knows its weight has decreased to zero. He never gets tired of seeing his cup float. Maybe that's because it is one of his only forms of entertainment here.

Some water left in the cup spills out, forming clear, bead-like blobs that slowly drift away from the cup. The brunet boy giggles excitedly, wanting to try it on with something larger, even if, with his current level of powers, it is impossible. He glances at the built-in clock, seeing that he still has a few minutes left. He returns he cup to its normal weight, and it drops down immediately. The water that has wandered away from the cup splashes all over the floor. Maurice ignores that and turns to look around his cell. There is nothing here that isn't either attached to the wall or the floor except for the cup, the toothbrush, the blue book that continuously made Ralph and Ashley bawl their eyes out, and Maurice himself. Then, it hits him.

As he stands in the middle of his cell, Maurice contemplates the possibility of this, but decides to give it a shot anyway. His brown eyes glance at the built-in clock for one last time. His palms are open and are opposite to the ground, like he is flying in one of those _Iron Man_ suits in the comics he used to read. His chest heaves and falls as he takes in deep breaths. Brown eyes shut for more focus as he feels the effects of gravity on him lessen. Even Jack's hilariously frustrated swears are left out. Maurice can feel himself levitating even though his feet are just barely leaving the ground. His eyes open to take a peek, and he is actually floating, a little, in the air. Excitement and thrill fills his lungs, so much that he doesn't even notice the blood dripping out of his nostrils. Maurice knows he can literally scream right now and tell everyone he can fly, and he is going to do it.

"Guys, they're here!"

If not for Ashley's warning scream.

She has enhanced senses, so, by nature, she has become some sort of a guard dog. And, if it wasn't for her, most of them would be dead by now. Maurice and the twins (and sometimes, Jack) have been thanking her for that by not making anymore black jokes when she is around. (It's not really that she wouldn't break their necks if she heard one.) Her warning took Maurice by surprise. He loses his focus and drops himself on his bottom. Until then does he notice his nosebleed. Hastily, he wipes the blood on his jumpsuit's arm and stands up right when the soldiers march in. One of them stops at his cell. Maurice puts his hand through a gap, waiting for his injection while thinking of an excuse for the nosebleed.

The needle is stuck in his arm, where it always does every morning. As the liquid travels into his arteries, he can feel his whole body flagging, being weakened significantly. His limbs are literally like four strips of noodles and his arm twitches slightly. Maurice retreats his arm and the cell's door slides open, letting him walk outside. The soldier behind him stares at his blooded sleeve.

"Kid, what happened to you?" The man asks.

"I.." Maurice stutters. He has to think of a reason, quick. "I dreamt of Ashley yesterday, naked."

Of course blaming his hormones is the best choice right now.

"Kid," the soldier shakes his head like an all-knowing old man, "we'll have a lot to talk about."

A childish grin plasters across the brunet's face. Today is Sunday. It means that they will get to go outside. Maurice loves these times when they get to leave the building and get some fresh air. Actually, everyone enjoys these times, except for Piggy. He usually stays outside for a while then goes back inside to pursue his career as a chronic sleeper. They usually get to do whatever they want, as long as it is not dangerous or escaping. But they all know what happens to those who escape or are stupid enough to do dangerous things (which include escaping), so there is no need for warnings.

As the steel door of the elevator slides open, a blinding light meets their eyes. It is summer, but this is Mezhgorye, so the weather is still a little cold. Wind blows through their hair, tickling their faces and making them laugh like innocent children all over again. Maurice runs out first, followed by Ralph. He always wants to be the first to see flowers blooming in a field somewhere around there. Even if he can't make out what flowers are growing there, seeing the colors is enough. The brunet boy stands behind the steel and concrete fence, looking out to the field of flowers. They were yellow-ish ones, looking like small droplets of sunlight planted on a wide canvas of green.

_Golden flowers on the grass._

Maurice's heart lets out a loud thud as his brain processes the line. It's something from a song that he has learnt before going here, a song that he sometimes finds himself singing silently as he lies awake at night. He still misses the boy who has taught him that song, a constantly moody boy, one who keeps to himself and refuses to share. Eyes gluing to the flower field, Maurice remembers when he used to teach that boy how to hold the kittens they had in the orphanage, or when he used his two fingers to lift both corners of the boy's mouth, forcing him to smile, or how the first smile tugged at the boy's lips as he buried his face in Maurice's torso. And, in his mind, he still believes that the boy is somewhere near him, even if it seems irrational.

After the moment of contemplation, Maurice turns around to see Ralph running and screaming, letting his blonde hair fly free in the wind. It is as if there is a silent competition between him and the blonde to see who is more carefree inside this place. Without his pills, Ralph is, of course, more hyperactive, but Maurice is definitely winning if he isn't in the middle of his existential crisis.

Speaking of which, Maurice notices that Simon talks to Jack a lot lately, in secret. They usually whisper to each other about God-knows-what. This raises curiosity even if Maurice isn't in the middle of his crisis since Simon doesn't really speak much, and Jack doesn't speak to Simon much. Maybe they are deciding on coming out as gays, since there are no laws against the LGBTQ community as of now, as Maurice has learnt during one of the classes when a politician taught. It's not that he necessarily knows what the other letters stand for (so far, Maurice only knows that G is for gay and L is for lesbian).

Curiosity driven, Maurice decides to follow the two. They have just been talking to a soldier, and are heading toward the elevator. The brunet boy knows he needs to somehow infiltrate that elevator and find out because they don't look like they're going to talk to him about what is going on where they are going any time soon. However, all he can really do right now is follow. If he was a skinny five year-old, he could have hidden under their legs and they never would have noticed, but no, he is a five foot six teenager who is recognizable enough to not be mixed up with Jack or Simon or any of the soldiers. Why does he, of all people, have to be Asian (well, half Asian, but that's not the point). Maybe if he is silent enough, they won't notice. Most of the soldiers in there are taller than him anyway, and they dress in heavy, all-black clothing, so the only thing they should care about in that elevator is how to stuff all of them inside that small space.

Secretly, Maurice tiptoes, following Jack and Simon, falling behind a few steps just to make sure he is safe. Occasionally, he hides behind something to avoid being discovered. Soon, he finds a way to go behind those random gigantic air vents and catches up with the other two just before they go into the elevator. He hides between the heavily-armored men as he slips inside of the cabin, and the size of their armors are so large the elevator is stuffy even if no more than ten people are in there. Maurice manages to hide between two men by lowering himself a little so that his brown hair is unseen by the soldiers. It has been a horrible experience, and he is never happy that his face was sandwiched between a man's bottom and another's crotch, but it is something he will never talk about to anyone. What makes him surprise is how they are oblivious to his existence even though he is literally in one of their ass cracks. As the elevator's doors shut, Maurice hears Jack asking something about the security system.

"The comp's being fixed or some shit." A soldier replies. "'s your fault, kid. 'least we don't have to do the access code thing for the next three months or so."

Clearly, Maurice doesn't know what Jack did to the computer, but maybe it has something to do with that day when he "took a shit", as he phrased it, for one hour and came back with Simon. Ralph has joked about that for a week or so before blatantly forgetting about the whole story. Sam, Eric, and Maurice took a little longer to get sick of the story, but they eventually stopped.

As the two metal panels slide open, Maurice half-crawls out along with the soldiers. He runs to hide behind a wall and watches as the soldiers march behind Jack and Simon. They are going somewhere, presumably dangerous. Otherwise, they wouldn't have needed this many soldiers. When he is sure all of the men have passed, Maurice gets out of his spot behind the wall. The whole hall is dark, and is only lit by faint lights on the top of each wall. The beating of his heart raises as he slowly heads towards the end of the hall, where it is divided into two paths. Not knowing which way Jack and Simon went, Maurice randomly turns right.

It gets darker towards the end of the hall. The fading lights give Maurice chills running down his spine, but he keeps walking nevertheless. His steps are the only sound echoing around the place, and he sees a light. There is a room at the end of the hall, and as he gets closer, the light becomes stronger.

He stands in front of the door leading to the room.

It has the words _Confinement Room_ in dark gray on it.

It is rumored that the _CR_ is where they keep a _beast_. But Maurice doesn't believe in the beast.

There is a small window on the door, where the light comes through. Slowly, Maurice peeks into that window to a blinding white color that makes him feel like he might burn his eyes.

There is also a boy in there, chained up, his raven hair is a stark contrast to the white walls around him and his pallid skin.

Maurice knows this boy.

_"What's your name?"_

_The boy stares at him through his bangs hesitantly._

_"Roger."_

He knew it. There aren't any beasts in this place. Have never been.


	8. Will You Save Me?

The boy seems to be sleeping. His head bows down, coal-black hair long and a mess. It must be an uncomfortable position to have to get accustomed to; kneeling on the floor with both arms chained up. He looks like a prisoner in medieval dungeons, the place where they kept extremely dangerous criminals. Maurice knows this image from the movies he watched during his childhood. The boy and those criminals practically looks the same, with the _CR_ looking a little bit more futuristic.

Maurice debates if he should go inside. One half of him screams _screw this place_ , and the other half is tempted. He knows there has to be someone supervising Roger. After all, the boy must be locked in the _CR_ for a reason. Plus, the room is most likely locked. They can't risk another one of his "prison breaks" anyway. Sighing, the brunet boy takes another look inside the obnoxiously bright room. His eyes meet with the small tubes attached to Roger's arms and legs. The tubes are transferring some sort of blue liquid into his body, which is kind of odd, since _NT-35_ is an almost-clear liquid with hints of blue in it. Maybe this is a stronger version of that drug. But if so, why are the people here even bothering to use the weak ones to restrain all of them. But then, again, he doesn't understand half of the policies here. Maybe the rule-makers are just bipolar assholes.

Nonetheless, Maurice leans more into the door to inspect the room further. The heavy lead door moves, creating alarmingly loud sounds as it grinds against the floor. This startles Maurice. He takes a step back, seeing that the door is, surprisingly, not locked. Now he has to decide if he should go inside or not. Of course it is suspicious if a room with a dangerous subject is not locked, and it is even more so when the noise he made alerted no one. What is this? A trap? Why would they trap him when the only thing he knows about this place is the identity of the chained-up boy? Maurice takes a look around the hall, registering the presence of somebody else who is not him. Cautiously, he gazes around, his heart still thumping loudly in his chest from the recent noise. There is no one here but Roger and him, as least that's from what he can see currently. Maybe that's just Roger, and maybe the room is actually unsupervised. However, Maurice decides that it is not likely.

Despite his better judgement and what common sense is screaming in his head, the room looks too tempting not to investigate. Maybe going inside and looking around for a little while won't hurt anyone. And if he is caught, he can say that he is lost or something like that. It's believable enough, Maurice thinks, especially in a place this huge. Of course, some people won't take kindly to his explanation, but, as one of the subjects with the most powerful abilities, they surely can't get rid of him that easily. Previous deceased subjects actually have really minor powers, like the ability to communicate with animals or transform into them and such. To some extent, Maurice figures that he is safe, kind of. He tries to think of another reason for his presence in the _CR_ , in case the first one fails. Maybe he can say that he is curious. No, that's instant death. He thought that they needed to go somewhere, like an experiment or something? Plausible, but that won't explain why none of the soldiers noticed him on the way down. Reasonable excuses outside of "I was lost" are hard to find, and, in truth, that might be the only excuse even remotely close to being relevant. If whoever that might catch him cares about petty things, he won't even get away. How can he be lost down here when he is not even _supposed_ to use the elevator on his own?

Despite all the reasonings he does in his head, Maurice finds himself taking a step inside the white room. Then, he takes another step, and he is now completely inside of the room. White takes over everything, making his eyes a little sore. The chemical scent of sterilizer makes him scrunch his nose a little, and, outside of the heartbeat monitor's constant beeping and the sound of his own breath, the whole room is silent. Maurice's eyes scan around the room and the top corners, looking for cameras. He finds one on the top right corner, near the door, and wonders why no one is rushing here to stop him yet. As he moves inside further, he sees some sort of computer screen behind Roger. Avoiding the tubes in fear that if he steps on one, it will do something to his friend, he walks to the screen.

It is a touch screen, as Maurice sees no keyboards or mouses. There is a password protecting the files. Of course there must be. This is a secret military base, after all. Technically, there should be five tries before the computer goes berserk and alarm everyone that there is an intruder, but then, this computer may be different. Maybe it will only allow one try, so Maurice has to be careful. What will they put as a password if the subject's name is Roger? His number, maybe? Or his powers? Both are equally unlikely to happen. What about his surname? What _is_ Roger's surname? Maurice vaguely recalls seeing it in the book that the head of the orphanage used to keep all the time. Something that looks like _Chernobyl_ , but not quite. At least Maurice is sure of the first five letters. "Chern", but he doesn't know where to go from there.

However, like an instinct, Maurice types in _Chernenko_. He doesn't know why he does it or how he even comes up with it, but it works, and now, the brunet boy is staring at a profile photo of his friend, about five years ago.

 **Subject no. 0**  
**_Chernenko, Roger Borisevich - 15 - Male_**  
**_Born_** _: November 16th, 2001 in Russia_  
**_Nationality_** _: England_  
**_Abilities_** _: Telekinesis and Telepathy_  
**_True extent of abilities_** _: Unknown_  
**Subject is under the supervision of researcher** **Marissa Dunnet** **.**  
**_Objective_** _: Subject's abilities are to be enhanced and modified in project_ BrBAP _as he is the secret weapon and one of the most powerful known deviations._

Maurice glances around the screen, not really understanding what _BrBAP_ is. He stares at the four documents on the screen, wondering which one he should see first. On the top right corner is something with _Subject's Daily Record_. Below it is _Experiment Footage_. The other two are _Progress Report_ and _Projects_. All of the documents get Maurice curious, and he doesn't know which one he should check out first. His finger lingers around _Experiment Footage_ and _Subject's Daily Record_ , then presses on the latter. An activity log appears in front of his eyes. Maurice scrolls down, choosing one day at random. The word _loading_ appears, then, a document.

 **3/5/2016**  
_Subject has been showing erratic behaviours for the past few days, and is currently on watch. Should anything happen, we need to be prepared._

 **4/5/2016**  
_Subject's second personality acted up. Subject has lost control of himself and escaped from the CR. Our men have managed to put him back into restraint before an emergency evacuation was deemed necessary. The casualties were twenty soldiers. A new method of restraint is being considered._

 **5/5/2016**  
_Nothing of note._

 **6/5/2016: Therapy**  
_Doctor Joyce denied our proposal for a frontal lobe surgery, despite that it might be the only solution to subject's mental problems. Subject was tested with the new gears. No positive results have shown up yet._

..

 **25/6/2016**  
_Subject has once again escaped. He has managed to run to the medical room before being recaptured. Later on, he got out once again, and has caused a casualty of forty men before being put into restraint. The proposal for a new method of restraint has been accepted. Subject will now be injected with_ NT-81 _twenty-four hours a day, everyday._

 **26/6/2016**  
_The new restraint method has now been applied._

 **27/6/2016**  
_Nothing of note._

 **28/6/2016**  
_Subject has attempted to escape. It appeared that this method is working more efficiently than last ones._

 **29/6/2016: Experiment 158**  
_We have resorted to testing Anabolic Steroids on the subject. A regular dosage did not work. Therefore, we have doubled the amount. Subject displayed spasms and a sharp increase in heart rate. Approximately six seconds later, subject passed out. The experiment had to be cancelled without any positive results._

..

 **6/7/2016: Therapy**  
_Doctor Joyce disagreed with our new restraint method. We had no other choice but to terminate her._

 **7/7/2016: Experiment 160**  
NT-98 _failed to function. Subject had nosebleeds and breathing problems as side effects._

 **8/7/2016**  
_Nothing of note._

 **9/7/2016: Experiment 161**  
_One of the newest gears was faulted. Subject experienced a short electrocution as a result, leading to blackouts and a near-critical condition. However, we have managed to restore subject to his regular state._

Maurice steps back, picturing the horror his friend has been going through. His hand raises up to go back to the main page, not sure if he wants to see the footage or not. Subsequently, he decides that he doesn't want to see the _torture_ as moving images that might repeat over and over again in his mind. All he wants now is to get out of here, bringing that limp boy along with him, even though he has no exact idea on how to get Roger out. The brunet boy turns to his friend, still chained to the wall, pale hands slightly twitching. Looking around, Maurice approaches Roger. He kneels down before the boy and stares at him, contemplating his choices.

Roger looks even more vulnerable at a close distance. Light blue veins are prominent underneath the almost transparent skin. His bones jut out of the layer of epidermis, creating sharp edges, as if the bones might stab through its coverage one day. His eyes are shutting, eyebrows furrowing. Dark circles underneath the black eye lashes indicate restless nights when he struggled to sleep under the effects of the drugs he has been put through. Gently, Maurice pulls the cannulas out of his friend's arms and legs. The tubes that are still transferring the liquid dangle from the ceiling, blue chemicals dripping down to the floor. Without any ideas of what to do next, he kneels there as a sudden feeling of anxiety is pumped through his body. He has seen the button that says _release_ , but should he press it? He has no where to go after this. He won't even be able to save Roger or hide him. He doesn't have an excuse, and they're going to find out. They're going to _kill_ him, and he will endanger the others. And soon, everyone will die and it's _his fault._

His frantic heartbeats stop as he sees the heavy eyelids slowly opening. Hazy gray eyes stare at him, and Maurice can feel himself fearing that Roger won't even remember who he is. The boy seems happy to see someone who isn't the researcher. His eyes are glassy with water from tears or whatever else Maurice will never know. The corners of his mouth shake, and his teeth dig into his lower lip painfully.

"Will you save me?" He asks, his voice rasping and cracking and hoarse, and Maurice just stares at him. It is like that night when they first met again. It was dark then, and it is blindingly bright now, but the brokenness in the boy's voice is still the same as ever.

_Will you be there?_

_Will you save me?_

Nodding, Maurice pulls the chained boy into his arms, his forehead touching the other's. He is certainly not crying, but he can tell that there is something pricking at his heart and clenching it as this sight of Roger catches his eyes. It's just unbearable. Maurice wishes he knew the reasons to his feelings, but he doesn't, so he will assume that it's because he just wants to see his friend's smile again. The small curve on the boy's lips was like a double rainbow. It only happens after a heavy rain, and it's so rare that it is a once-in-a-lifetime sight. Or maybe Maurice just misses the protectiveness he felt as he let his friend bury his small face in his shirt. Whatever it is, it drives Maurice to committing the next act.

He presses _release_.

The frail body collapses into his as a siren goes off. Maurice knows he needs to stand up, but the bony fingers that grasp at his jumpsuit don't seem to let him. And suddenly, there are men rushing into the room, guns pointing at their heads, laser beams focusing at one vital spot, ready to shoot. Roger's head is still buried in Maurice's chest like a stray cat looking for protection, and his fingers cling even tighter to the fabric of the suit. Maurice, however, has no clues of what to do. He just kneels there, frozen like an idiot as more footsteps rush toward the room. He is in big trouble, he knows it, and he can't do anything but hope for the best. Maybe his death with more than twenty bullets in his head will pass by quickly, like how you crush an ant and then it's dead, not like how a cockroach can still survive without its head. And then, there is a loud crashing sound.

No one shoots Maurice, and that's what he is curious about. He opens his eyes, not even recalling when he has closed them. The soldiers are lying on their backs, guns not in hands but on the floor, scattering around. Beneath his chin, Roger is breathing heavily, head still tucked in Maurice's chest. The pale fingers shiver as if he is in the middle of a blizzard. Did Roger do that? Did Roger knock out all of those men? When he has just woken up? As Maurice remembers, Roger has only been away from that blue serum for a few moments.

Just how powerful _is_ that boy?

But then, more people seem to have arrived at the room, and he has no time to contemplate his friend's telekinetic potentials. Maurice can feel Roger hugging him now, refusing to let go.

"Maurice?" Hearing Jack's surprised yelp, the brunet boy turns around, facing him and Simon, panting and wearing weird metallic accessories. Maurice forces a sheepish grin while awkwardly trying to think of a reason to explain the whole situation, but comes up with nothing.

"Just what are you doing here?" Simon continues after Jack, his face confused as ever. "And what are you doing to Roger?" He walks over to them, kneeling down as he gets close enough.

"Um.. surprised?" Maurice mentally slaps his face with his palm as he says this. This is it, not only does he put himself in trouble, he has also managed to drag Jack and Simon along.

Below him, Maurice sees Roger's head timidly leaving the nook of his neck, gray eyes scanning around like a small deer in the headlights. Seeing Simon, the fingers begin to uncurl and let go of Maurice's jumpsuit. Roger seems more relaxed now. But, as the soldiers start to stand up, he stiffens again. From his mouth come vague whispers, and Maurice can only catch a few words that have something to do with chains and being put back to somewhere. Out of the corner of his eyes, Maurice sees Jack holding his arm up, signaling the men to stop. The redhead says something to them, and, somehow, the group of armed soldiers start retrieving and moving outside, leaving them four in the room.

Jack pushes the heavy door close, then approaches the other three. Roger is still holding tight to Maurice, but he seems a little less shaken now. Sighing, the redhead reaches his hand out to gently touch the matted black locks until the smallest of the four turns to look at him. A gentle smile crosses Jack's lips, something that neither Maurice nor Simon have ever witnessed before. Seeing someone like Jack perform gentle gestures is almost worthy to be the ninth wonder of the world.

"What happened?" Jack continues with a voice Maurice thinks of as uncharacteristically and unrealistically caring. The smaller boy takes uneven breaths, attempting to calm himself down, but ends up throwing himself in Jack's arms in some kind of an embrace.

"I– I'm sorry." Roger stutters, not exactly crying, but his voice sounds shaky. "I jus– just wanted to get out. And Maurice is there, and– I'm sorry." He frantically apologizes. Jack gives him small pats in the back, and whispers something to his ear. Something that even Simon doesn't seem to have knowledge of. Roger nods, and Jack helps him to get on his feet and move to the chains. His steps are weak and small, but they are to be expected from a person who hasn't been walking much for about five years. He wordlessly complies as Jack chains him back, while Maurice's mouth is agape.

Roger's eyes shut tight the moment the blue liquid is transferred to his arteries. His hands and feet twitch violently, almost as if he is being electrocuted. Maurice can't stand to watch it, but he has no where to look, and just stays frozen out of guilt. He sees Jack biting his lower lip so hard it may draw blood, clearly not wanting to do whatever he just did. Simon is just looking at the ground, being as silent as he always is. Someone has just bursted in through the door, but Maurice has no heart to turn around and find out who that is. Soon, the twitching stops, and Roger is as still as a statue. The heartbeat monitor is working again, and has resumed being the only noise in the white room.

The person who has just walked in is a blonde woman. She is dressed in black and red underneath the white lab coat. She checks the monitor and some other screens on the tablet she carries with her. There is a small card pinned to the left side of her coat's chest that says **_Dr. Marissa Dunnet_** _,_ and after having read the card, Maurice guesses she is the same person as the one he read about in those files.

"Número uno, give me the reason to this chaos, will you?" Doctor Dunnet says, snapping her fingers to get Jack's attention. The redhead turns to her, then signals for Simon and Maurice to leave the room.

* * *

"Fuck you, Maurice. _Fuck. You_." Jack grumbles underneath his breath, hand clenching into a fist, ready to start a fight with anyone. Maurice walks beside him and Simon, who is sandwiched between the other two. The brunet boy awkwardly grins, understanding that it's his fault Jack has to take extra hours of experiments each time he is called down.

"How did you explain it to her?" Simon turns to Jack, trying to calm his anger down by changing the subject a little.

"Well, I told her it was my idea to get Maurice down here. Said I figured that if Roger had a friend once in a while, he wouldn't try to escape anymore." Frustratingly, Jack cracks his knuckles. diverting his gaze to Simon's direction. "Then I just worked in some magic, and she believed me." He says with a sudden pride, the anger has somehow subsided.

"Wait, so what do you do down here?" Maurice asks to get back to the conversation. Of course he will ask that question. It's the reason that got him down here in the first place.

The three of them all stop at the same time, and Simon glances at Jack, seeming to have a silent argument. No words are exchanged for a while.

"Since you'll be going down here _a lot_ after today–" Jack continues where they left off "–we might as well tell you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time, haha. Anyways, how's it going?


	9. War Machines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty dialogue-centric, so I'm sorry if you get bored just reading their conversations. However, this is an important chapter for this arc alone and for the story as a whole, since it contains a lot of big reveals.

Shoving Maurice and Simon in a dark room, the cliched hiding place, with the hope that no one will find them, Jack closes the door. Darkness engulfs them, and there is an inexplicably cold wind blowing through an air vent somewhere. Maybe they're near some labs, since one of those, as Simon remembers, is cold.

Jack and Simon have just been excused from their "session" of training. Some of the machines are broken anyway, and they are trusted enough to take Maurice back to the cells. Simon seriously questions the morality of Doctor Dunnet, but, again, he doesn't know the secret to the universe, and he never asks himself about that.

Maybe Simon shouldn't just let his thoughts wander off dangerously like that. Some of his jokes are so dumb that sometimes he just cringes at himself. Maybe epilepsy does him good at times by stopping his train of thoughts before they go too far.

Now that they are in a closed area, it is probably safe to confess anything, but, instead, they just stare at each other for an awkwardly long amount of time, not sure if they are actually away from all eyes. There are hidden cameras everywhere, Simon knows that for sure. He has seen all those monitor screens that time he accidentally wandered into the security room after training. There are cameras all around Roger, too as it seems, some are too hidden to even be seen by anyone. It raises to Simon the question of how Maurice hadn't been caught until he triggered the alarm, because Roger obviously couldn't have been awake enough to affect anything at that moment. Of course the security wouldn't have been so oblivious as to ignore that much of a threat to the secrecy of the base. Simon has seen the soldiers' punishment before, again, by mistake. It's enough to keep any man in line. The punishment is not physical, as Doctor Dunnet thinks slowly wasting their mentality away is much more effective; and it is.

And two years ago, Simon thought doctors were supposed to help people.

"Are we going to talk, or..." Maurice finally decides to speak up, as it might be impossible for him to just shut up anyway.

Simon still glances around the room, looking for flashing red lights indicating the presence of a security camera, but soon realizes that if there are cameras, they won't have been that noticeable. He hears Jack sighing and some nervous shuffling on Maurice's side. Something tells him that Jack is still unsure whether he should tell Maurice what has been going on. It's not that their friend is not trustworthy enough (or maybe because Maurice might accidentally blurt these things out), but that more people will be in danger the wider this knowledge is spread. Even though he's not a psychic, Simon can still sense Jack's concerns. He doesn't want to rush his friend, so he lets him be. Maybe it's best not to say anything. Doctor Dunnet is not a merciful person anyway–

"What I'm about to tell you is classified, so you'd better keep your mouth shut." Jack speaks up, the sudden loudness of his voice startling Simon. It is apparent that there is no security in this room, which both surprises and perplexes him. Now that his eyes has adjusted to the light condition, he can see, thanks to the proximity, Jack's eyes moving around, scanning the dark room, still a little cautious. He hears more alarmingly loud noises as Maurice sits down, as if the redhead is about to tell him a fairytale.

Jack looks around the room once more.

"First, you must understand that _PERSES 1_ is a military base." He starts, leaning slightly on the wall behind. Simon, thinking that it means they are moderately safe, does the same. Jack's voice is oddly loud for someone who is not intending to reveal his conversation, but Simon tells himself not to think about it too hard. His friend has fairly good reasons for most of what he does, like telling Doctor Dunnet to test heavier gears on his body only because even though Simon is also on board with these experiments, he can't do anything too extreme.

"Yeah, yeah, keep going." Maurice is visibly nodding, an eager hand nudging Jack to continue.

"Have you ever wondered why you never see anyone fight?"

"I've questioned it a few times. But, I mean–" The brunet boy pauses momentarily, searching his mind for words that can describe his thoughts. "I never really _think_ of it. I guess.. they fight when we don't notice.. or something like that." His voice falters at the end, signifying his lack of knowledge in the subject at hand.

Through the thin strip of light projected on the floor from, Simon can see a shadow walking pass and stopping right in front of the door. His breath hitches, what if they get found out? Jack hasn't told much– in fact, he said nothing at all, but hiding in a dark room without surveillance already looks shady. He curls his fingers into a fist, half wanting to tell Jack, half not, as they might be found out from the noise. Nervously, Simon glances at the redhead. He can already tell that his friend is also watching the shadow. The outside light illuminates the light blue eyes, masking Jack's gaze with an inexplicably cold aura. Almost stealthy. as if he is on a mission.

Or maybe just the fact that they are in there has already made it a mission.

The man walks away. Jack and Simon simultaneously let out sighs of relief when he is completely out of earshot.

"Wow, what was that just now?" Maurice is the first one to speak, sounding amazed like a kid in a toy store. "You guys acted like secret agents or somethi–" He continues, not paying the least attention to his voice, but is silenced by Jack.

"He might be out of ear shot, but someone else can come any time. Keep your voice down." The redhead drops his voice to a mutter. He pulls Maurice and Simon closer so their voices can come across better. "So, should we continue?"

Simon can feel Maurice nodding, eager to find out.

"Why do you think no one fights here?" Jack asks, giving Maurice a few seconds to ponder the answer before continuing, "because fighting is not their duty, or at least top priority. They are soldiers assigned as guards. Their mission is this place's safety from you guys, and from, well, Roger. They are armed with nothing but those tranquilizer guns. The real weapons and soldiers are Simon," Jack points vaguely at Simon's direction, and then at himself, "and I."

"Wait.. what? So you guys are–"

"Biological weapons, if you may say so. The best arsenal any army could wish for." Simon cuts in before Maurice can finish. He looks at the ground, contemplating what he has just said, realizing how easily he has just accepted his fate. To them, he is not human, but one of the best, most efficient weapons on Earth. He eyes Jack again, noticing how his friend is promptly nodding his head, asking him to continue.

Simon swallows.

"Remember the gears we were wearing just now?" He asks Maurice, the other taking a few moments to recall, then nods. "They are mechanics being experimented on us. Doctor Dunnet, the woman, remember? She tells us those are modifications for our bodies. They either restrict or enhance our abilities, well, they are _supposed_ to."

"What do you mean?" Simon doesn't need to look to tell that Maurice is confused. It seems like everyone is confused by his obscure way of telling things. Maybe Simon should ask Jack to help him with that.

"The gears aren't stable. Doctor Dunnet is experimenting them on us to find the fault." He unconsciously touches the deep indent of the gear tested on him today. It will take long though, before they find out what is actually wrong with those gears.

"What happens after that? Like when they are stable, what happens?"

"She'll move on to testing them on you guys. And when they are completely stable..." Simon looks to Jack for confirmation, the redhead nods, "...World War Three."

There is a moment of silent, in which Simon can hear their own heartbeats, Maurice's accelerating as he processes the information. Lately, Simon also has visions of it - World War Three. Sometimes, they are triggered by his diagnosis, and sometimes, they just come naturally. They detach him from the present, only to bring him to a new, infinitely harsher reality of blood and smoke and bombs. It is a place where he is not human, or at least isn't considered so, a place where he is a mere war machine that "humans" can use against each other. Simon sighs, trying to conceal his ironic laugh. Humanity is faulted. He isn't sure if he wants to be one of them anymore.

"H–" He can hear the syllable trying to escape Maurice's throat. "How come? Why are– Why do they _want_ this war? Haven't they seen what the previous wars brought?" The brunette is evidently still appalled by this new knowledge.

"Humans desire power." Jack states blatantly. Simon looks up at him again, agreeing. "No matter how many times they are warned, no matter how many times they fuck up, they will still walk the same path, will still try to prove that they can't be overpowered. History repeats itself a lot doesn't it?"

"The fault isn't in our existence, but their abuse of it." Simon continues after Jack. "They don't consider us their kind. They call us _deviations_ , a mere form of them. The British army, after they've gathered some of the strongest deviations– us, secretly separated themselves. We are now here, Mezhgorye, trained like soldiers and experimented on like lab rats to protect their little secret from their enemies." Simon realizes that he sounds oddly bitter, but even Ralph will sound bitter if he knows about it.

It seems like even Jack is surprised by the strange spite in Simon's tone of voice.

"And they even dragged Roger into this." The smallest of the three goes on.

"Wait, what's happening to Roger?" Maurice is confused once again.

"They say he's their secret weapon. Once our gears are finished, his will be too. They're going to use one of us to force him to fight. Even after five years of restriction, Doctor Dunnet said a fully conscious Roger had the power of one hundred soldiers and a talented commander, or even more, depending on how his abilities are developed. She says she has a plan of some sort that involves letting him try to escape once in a while so that he can practice his strategizing. She.." Simon spaces out, remembering the Doctor's exact words about her scheme. "She encourages us to form bonds with Roger. The stronger the bond, the more likely he will be manipulated into doing whatever she wants. Fucking bitch."

Even Jack flinches at that hostile statement. He is aware that Simon's profane vocabularies are the lesser-known aspects of him, and he has prepared himself for the not-so-tame words coming from his friends, but it still somehow came as a surprise.

"But Jack and I have a pla–" 

Simon stops himself before he can finish the sentence. He isn't supposed to just tell anyone about this, and Jack has specifically asked him to do so. The less people know about it, the better. He glances at Jack, only to be showered with a cold gaze. He always knows Jack's eyes look scary in the dark. They are light blue and reflect light like a mirror, in which Simon can see himself. Clearly. Unconsciously, he takes a step back. His rear almost touching something that feels like a table's edge. But Jack only puts one finger out where only him can see, and Simon understands immediately.

"But Jack and I have a plan." He resumes, trying to remember which part of the plan, according to his friend, is to be revealed when one finger is held up. 

...

Simon rubs the towel on his hair once more to soak in as much water as he can then ties it around his head. He grabs another towel and wraps it around his waist. He usually showers last, and even though no one should be here at this hour, he is still somewhat self-conscious. About what, he has no idea. He knows, however, that he would rather die than have someone see him naked. Maybe the fear has something to do with his too-reserved past self. Simon thinks he will try to look into it one day.

He walks out of the shower booth, steam following him. His feet make wet footprints on the rather cold floor as he strolls to the jumpsuit. He threw it on the sink counter before showering, and it is now lying in a pile on the metal surface. He dries his lower body once again and takes another cautious look around the bathroom before dropping the towel to the floor. Quickly, Simon slips on his clothes. 

That is when he notices his dropped towel levitating.

Momentarily freaked out, Simon jumps back a few steps. He then reapproaches the floating object, poking at it experimentally, then grabs and yanks it down. The towel remains in its place, as if held by an invisible hand. 

"Come on Roger. You nearly gave me a heart attack." He sighs, careful not to let his words get too loud. The other side of the conversation seems silent, unyielding, but the towel is eventually let loose. It falls down, covering Simon's arm, back to being coarse and a little damp and affected by gravity.

 _I'm sorry._ The other boy mutters his apology. _I just wanted to have a little fun._ Now Simon feels bad. _Doctor Dunnet is a little.. hard lately._

Simon shudders at the mention of the name. She is a terrifying woman, even crazier than all of the crazy scientists he has seen combined, though she doesn't show it. Apparently, she is also a genius, or at least that's Simon heard when a few guards were discussing about their superior. 

"It's fine. Just.. give me a heads up next time." He answers Roger, not bothering to share his thoughts. He knows the other boy has probably heard all of them when he thinks.

 _Okay._ Roger replies. Maybe if the boy was in front of him, Simon could see him grinning. _So can I do something now?_

"Yeah, but keep it low. I don't want the guards to barge in becau–" 

Roger doesn't let him finish. There is now some kind of invisible force acting around Simon's body, lifting him up with ease. It's a rather strange feeling - not touching the ground beneath him and free from the binds of gravity. He looks down to the floor from his elevated point of view, fascinated with the way his legs can dangle freely in the air. Barely used to his state of levitation, Simon can already feel himself moved slowly around the bathroom. It's as if he barely has any control over his limbs.

But Roger is supposed to be under restraint by now. 

"How are you doing this? I thought the liquid thing put you in a coma-like state or something like that?" Simon asks as his body travels dangerously close to the door. 

 _It does put me in a state like coma, but I can still use my abilities through the minds of people I've formed mental bonds with. Like how they talk to ghosts through mediums._ Roger explains himself while gradually lowering Simon to the floor. 

"A mental bond?" 

_It's what is letting us talk right now. I formed it when I touched your forehead that one day. Remember? It's only temporary though, and it will lose effects soon. But with mental bonds, I can talk to you and use my abilities because when I use them, the brain scanner can't recognize it._

"So.. by temporary bonds, you mean there are permanent bonds too?" 

_Yes. They are harder to form, but they can be formed. I think the only one I've created was with Jack._

Simon's now-dry feet touch the wet floor. He sways a little, suddenly not so used to standing on the ground anymore. 

"Are you going to use that when the time comes?" 

_I've already been using it._

"Was that why Maurice could go in undetected?"

_Yes._

"I'm starting to get why they call you the secret weapon." Simon chuckles bitterly. Even so, Roger is not a tool for them to use. Despite that he is a military genius, experimenting on him and using him for war against his will is not equivalent to treating him as a human.

But then again, since when do those people consider them humans?


	10. They Are Up To Something

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another dialogue-centric chapter.

_You noticed too, right, Eric?_

The words ring inside Eric's mind, waking him up as he nearly falls asleep. The twin lies on his bed, facing the wall. His hand touches the hard surface, pushing hard, like he can make a hole on it if he tries enough. He used to be able to do that with ease, but not so much now. Dare he say it, he might have gotten used to the drug's effects. At first, it was something exhausting, like the blue liquid had sucked away all his life force or something similar, and he hated that period of time too much.

_Eric._

The voice continues, again calling for his attention. Eric always knows who it belongs to, because there is only one person he can talk to in his head, via something similar to telepathy.

_Yeah, Sam?_

_Have you noticed how Jack, Simon and Maurice act lately?_ His brother replies, sounding somewhat grateful for Eric's attentiveness. _Strange, huh?_

Eric tries to recall the behaviors of his friends. 

 _It is kind of strange._ He tells his twin, continuing to play imaginary Tic-Tac-Toe with himself on the wall. _I mean, they just walk off sometimes on Sundays and don't come back until it's dinnertime. Simon talks to himself even more now, and what the hell is that song Maurice keeps humming?_

 _I think he said it reminded him of an old friend. You know, the one he starts talking about whenever we mention the beast? Do you think.. the beast is actually that friend?_ Sam comments on the subject matter. Unlike his brother, he is sitting on his bed, back against the wall, and eyes glued to the book they just got from another college graduate hired to be their teacher. The concept is pretty interesting, and the book's themes also pretty dark, the fall of mankind and that sort of thing. (Those ideas usually interest Sam, and Eric will often wonder what fun his twin can possibly find in some words printed on paper). 

_I don't think about it as much as you do, nerd._

_Well, you should now. It's getting pretty fishy._ Sam continues as he skims through the lines. Whenever they're communicating like that while Sam is reading, Eric can always hear the things his brother reads. He never comments on those, unless he finds them particularly hilarious or controversial. 

 _There's a lot of sexual tension between the main characters in that book you're reading though._ Eric giggles as he wins against himself in his own Tic-Tac-Toe game. He mentally erases the current game and starts a new one. 

 _Can I be the X?_ Sam's voice surprises Eric, as he has just realized the telepathy-like way they communicate also allows his brother to know almost exactly what he is doing in the other cell. 

_Sure thing._

* * *

Their day passes per usual. Or, at least, nothing really out of the ordinary showed up, save for the sense of tension in Sam and Eric, one that only the two of them can feel, courtesy of the previous night's conversation. They talked a little less, not enough for the others to notice, and saved room for observations. They made it discreet, only talking about the progress of their inspections to each other, and through each other's minds. It was almost like a secret operation, and Eric giggles at the thought of it sometimes. Sam hit him for it, because it "disrupt[ed]" whatever it was he was contemplating. 

Throughout the day, the twins did observe some suspicious behaviors, like the uncharacteristic way Maurice's gaze sometimes turned, or the way Simon, who is well-known for keeping to himself, was engaging in a long conversation with Jack, the local megalomaniac, or how Jack himself could withstand talking to Maurice without lashing out at least once. Either their personalities have been altered by puberty, or they have a plan of some sort that they are hiding from everyone. 

Either puberty takes the blame for these recent shenanigans or there is something much more significant going on, the twins's mutual thought is that the others deserve an explanation. 

At least they're not the only ones with the suspicion. 

The bathroom looks something on the lines of crowded when they walk in, but Sam and Eric expect no less. After all, Ashley is the only one using the girls' bathroom, considering that both two other female subjects are already deceased. The lights are everything but dim. They are a cold white color, shining down from the ceiling, bouncing off of the metal basins and the other boys' skin, making the room darker than how it really is and reminding the twins of something dreadful. 

Neither Ralph nor Piggy are in the shower despite their obvious vacancy. In normal circumstances, this would have appalled the twins, seeing that Piggy cares the most about cleanliness out of all of them, but, as of this moment, they all know why none of them are in the shower booths.

"It's about them three isn't it?" Piggy is the one to begin, even though Sam and Eric themselves have called for this "secret assembly".

"What three?" Ralph's eyebrows are knitted together, confusion written clearly on his face.

"You didn't notice?" The disbelief is as evident in Sam's voice as Ralph's confusion.

"Jack, Simon, and Maurice, who else?" Piggy explains to Ralph, although somewhat annoyed, "seriously, Ralph, you've got to get your head off the clouds sometimes."

"Sorry." 

"Anyway," Eric breaks in, pulling them back into the subject before they drift too far, knowing Ralph's low attention span, "what do you think? About the whole thing that is. I mean..." He stutters a bit, "we might be overthinking this."

"We can't be. I think they are up to something." Sam opposes his twin.

"How do you know for sure? I mean I did watch them with you today, and I agree that there _might_ be something fishy going on, but that's just a possibility." 

"Remember what Simon said that one night? That thing about Maurice's friend?" Piggy speaks again. As he points it out, the other three go silent. Ralph still fidgets with his fingers, but the look on his face indicates that he is trying to recall the night. 

That night, as Simon mentioned who Maurice had oftentimes suspected to be the infamous beast, no one really took his words into consideration, because maybe that was just something in his mind. A few days later, Simon went missing for almost the whole morning, then returned with Jack, after he, too was absent to "take a shit". 

"If we look at the events in chronological order," Sam interjects, finding himself sounding like a conspiracy theorist, "we will see that there is a time window where both Jack and Simon went missing. The fact that they appeared together after that suggests that when Jack went out, he wasn't taking a shit like he claimed, but was going to wherever it was that Simon was taken to, considering that he was, because of what he said."

The other boys stare at him in silence for a solid minute. 

"I didn't know you could talk like that." Piggy manages to exclaim, then, the whole bathroom turns silent again.

That is until the loudening chatters of Maurice (mostly) and Simon startle them. Ralph has already wandered into a shower booth, while Piggy and the twins hastily grab their towels and pretend the conversation never took place. Suspicious as they are, they can't confront the other three just yet.

* * *

_Sam! Sam!_

The addressed twin is woken up by the call. He blinks a few times to sharpen his vision a bit, even though it is pitch black, and looks to his bedside clock. It is twelve twenty-one, about the time the cells' doors are open.

 _Yeah?_ He answers, staring at where he assumes is his door, waiting for his eyes to get used to the darkness. If Eric wakes him up this late at night, it's better be something important.

_Can you see well? Now I mean?_

_A little bit, why?_ Sam squints his eyes at the door now that he can make out the gap of the opened door. 

_Don't make noises._

Sam nods.

_Now, slowly, crawl to the door, don't get too close, and look out to the hallway._

He does as instructed by Eric, sliding his body down carefully down to the floor. The only noise he is making is probably his heart beating in anticipation of what he is going to see, and in fear of getting caught. He uses his arms to guide himself to the gap, mindful of the distance between himself and everything, trying to remember where he places everything so he doesn't accidentally kick them. As he reaches the door, Sam begins hearing soft footsteps. It is normal for there to be footsteps at this hour, since a soldier is probably changing their jumpsuits, but the footsteps, this time, sound like they belong to different people. Taking a deep breath, he gazes at the hallway, squinting and opening his eyes so that he can see more clearly.

_What do you see?_

After Eric's question, Sam finally spots the figures. There are four of them, moving with caution. One of them is, unmistakably, a soldier with jumpsuits in his arms, but the other three look almost too familiar, and Sam has to cover his mouth so as not to make a noise.

_It's them._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait. I took too much liberty with procrastination, but I'm back again, and the next chapter is going to be more exciting. I swear to the conch.


	11. KFRED [1]

**Kyrgyzstan, Kazakhstan**   
**43°10** **′59** **″** **N, 74°28** **′01.9** **″** **E**   
**18:14 UTC**   
**Kyrgyzstan Facility for the Researching and Experimentation of Deviations (KFRED).**

"Fred-K to Perses."

[Commence?]

"E-6."

The man cautiously eyes his surroundings. Being well-experienced with infiltration, he understands the direness of the consequences if he gets himself discovered. The night does give him some advantages, but it doesn't mean that nothing he does will be covered. His awareness of the loudness of his voice in the cramped space makes him a bit paranoid. 

"Situation requires intervention." He continues.

[Elaborate.]

"KFRED has found out about BrBAP. I suspect they have an infiltrator in PERSES. There will be a meeting with the press at around seven thirty UTC tomorrow to release the info. The defense is too thick for a one-man assassination, I need reinforcement."

[Target?]

"The Sergeant Major."

[Who else has the knowledge of BrBAP?]

"The soldiers are beginning to spread rumors, but the information is moderately safe, as of now."

He looks around again, thinking he heard footsteps.

[Can you hold out for about four hours? We will send No. 1 and No. 9 to distract the defense and soldiers to assist you.]

"Why not just regular troops?"

[The Doctor wants to conduct some "field experiments" with her enhancing mechanics.]

"Copied."

He turns off the device, letting out a silent breath of relief, then leans on the wall and begins putting it back where it belongs in his jacket. He looks about once again as he does so, going completely quiet. It has become one of his instincts, for only a split second of carelessness can cause him his life, as well as the entire existence of PERSES. 

The door opens then, catching him off-guard. Light from the hall outside shines in his eyes, much brighter than the dim illumination he has got himself accustomed to for the past twenty minutes. He squints his eyes, trying to focus on the approaching figure. It's a boy, about as tall as him, and much younger than how he appears to be. If he's not careful, he might even mistake that boy for the clueless ones who often wander into the facility. He knows better than that. 

" _Squad Five Captain Duvall._ " The boy greets in Kazakh, nodding toward Duvall. He is blond, a little bit taller than normal boys of sixteen but not lanky. His skin is a bit too tanned, accentuating his toned body from the rigorous physical training with the military. 

"Shabelsky." Duvall nods to him, reluctant, unclear whether or not his cover has been blown. 

"Please, Mister Duvall, just call me Bill." The boy laughs, his language of choice is now English. "Don't be so tensed up around me, unless," he pauses for a while, "there's something you're hiding."

Duvall can sense from the boy suspicion, but it's not like his words aren't giving it away. He knows he can't just distract Shabelsky and run. Between them, the only real advantage he has is experience, and, even in that, Shabelsky is also about to surpass him. Furthermore, that boy is KFRED's strongest deviation, not by his ability, but by the way he uses it to benefit his insane physical strength. In a fight using only brute force, Shabelsky will probably defeat No. 1 with some effort. 

" _The Sergeant Major requires your presence, Mister Duvall._ " Upon seeing his puzzlement, Shabelsky snorts, leaning on the wall behind like a douchebag. The language is switched back to Kazakh, which Shabelsky seems to be more comfortable speaking. Duvall walks pass the boy, already working on his replies for every situation he can imagine, or an escape route, for the worst case scenario. 

When Duvall walks into the hall, he is greeted by the darkness inside the gun barrels of Squad Five's soldiers. 

" _I wouldn't move if I were you, Fred-K_." 

* * *

Jack yawns.

And it's not just a regular yawn, it's one that forces his mouth open to the maximum and makes him feel like he's just poured his heart and soul to it, which only occurs when he is extremely tired. 

Well, he is. Extremely tired. Exhausted. Unable to find the energy to do anything. He should have told Dunnet to go fuck herself and leave him alone to sleep. Yet, here he is, walking along the monotonous halls of P1 with soldiers only a few strides behind him and Simon, similarly drowsy, on his right. Maybe if he passes out on the way, they will just believe that he is dead and leave him there to sleep, meaning he won't have to do whatever the fuck it is they want him to.

Of course, Jack doesn't have that luxury.

The metal panels slide open in a swift and smooth fashion, allowing Jack, Simon, and the soldiers to enter the cabin. The elevator is now fixed, meaning they will have to do the access code thing again. Even if it doesn't take that much of effort, it is still, to him at least, too much of the lame ass sci-fi motif, one of the trivial things he hates about this place. 

_**[Access code?]** _

The rhythmic robot voice rings in his ears. Jack opens his mouth, but Simon is faster than him a bit.

" **Renshaw09.** "

_**[Confirmed]** _

There is a slight clash in the metal as the wheel begins to spin, letting the chain fall and the cabin descend. Jack has been used to the slight rocking of the elevator so much he doesn't mind it anymore, but it's only normal that the cabin is shaking, since the weight of all the people inside is probably just a little bit shy of the limit. There is always a silence that bugs Jack about these trips to the lab, although he doesn't like these soldiers enough to initiate a conversation. It's not much of a silence than a tension, like the soldiers know they're heading straight into hell. 

If only they know whatreal hell looks like — engulfed completely by a red flame and black silhouettes crumbling at his feet into ashes. Jack thinks of showing it to them one day. _Fucking real hell_.

They reach the near-bottom of the facility in a less than a minute. The doors open just as easily as they close, shoving the obnoxious light from the lab in their faces. Over the time he has been here, Jack has learnt the art of not reacting to the light, but Simon doesn't particularly have that much of experience. His companion's reaction makes Jack question why they can't just buy dimmer lightbulbs. Hell, they might as well turn off all the lights and do a fucking extra reveal of the room like some movie-typical villains. 

"Jesus fuck." Groaning miserably, Jack walks toward the lab, located at the back of that spacious room. They all know what that space is for: the mock duels between two guinea pig deviations Dunnet uses as a means of testing her "enhancing mechanics". Jack gulps at the thought, and something begins to poke at his guts at the sight of the new machineries. There is a kind of thrill in fighting someone and winning against them, even if it's just a fake duel, that rouses up in him the oddest enthusiasm. Jack doesn't think he should be feeling it.

Silence prolongs for a bit after the door to the lab closes, during which time Jack has taken a full look of the room, and noticed the jumpsuits on the hangers. They are similar to the ones of their escorting soldiers, but a bit less baggy and heavy, more their size than any of the men's. 

"Those are for us?" He points at the uniform, to which Dunnet gives a slight nod, then goes back to typing something on her computer. 

"Go change into them before we talk about anything else. Rápido, por favor." 

"You know we can't understand that."

" _Quickly_ , please." Dunnet stresses at the word, and turns back to her work again. Jack moves to grab one of the uniforms — they are the same, since Simon and him are practically of equal heights — and heads into the changing room, or a room whose function is ambiguous which they use as a makeshift changing room. Simon follows him not long after.

When they finish changing, Jack is already done speculating the reason to this uniform. It's probably a mission, similar to one that he has gone on in the past. Dunnet is probably going to test out one of the gears there, and Jack himself will be expected to perform a certain task with his ability that will help with the assessment of the gear, either destroying the enemy base or assassinating, or mass-murdering. Dunnet has dubbed it "sacrificing humanity for the greater goods," and Jack often re-phrases it "sacrificing humanity for the destruction of humanity."

They settle on their previous seats as a satellite map is projected on the wall. On the top of the map is the coordinates of their target, the red indicator pinpoints the exact location. Jack doesn't pay much attention, he has guessed most of the plan's content anyway, and, instead, looks at the watch-like invention being looped around his wrist. It's a bit bigger than a standard watch, with a monitor screen showing some statistics. He doesn't particularly care what those numbers indicate. All he needs to know is that this contraption is remotely stable, and won't electrocute him to death when he fights. 

"Our troops, and the two deviations will parachute down to the enemy's base, attacking and assisting Fred-K from above. No. 1, no. 9, your jobs will be to distract the enemy's defense as we move in to attack KFRED." The sergeant's booming voice snaps Jack out of his thoughts. He lifts his head up to see a detailed map of the enemy base, and his and Simon's positions outside. "Now, keep in mind that KFRED possesses three deviations, the only one capable of defense, and is their trump card, goes by the name of William Shabelsky. His abilities are unknown, but he is reported to show great combat skills. The other two are Percival Wemys Madison and Peterson Miller. Your mission is to capture these deviations and bring them back to PERSES."

* * *

"What is KFRED, exactly?" Simon suddenly speaks up as they walk with the escorting soldiers to the elevator, and it's only then that Jack realizes his friend may have been completely clueless throughout the whole briefing.

"The Kyrgyzstan Facility for the Researching and Experimentation of Deviations, basically like PERSES, just a bit more public." 

"Why are we attacking them? Who is Fred-K?"

"They know about BrBAP. Fred-K is one of our agents."

Simon nods, seemingly understanding the situation a bit more.

The elevator takes extra long this time to get up, as it is not the cells' floor they are going back to like after previous experiments. The cabin goes up higher and higher, until it reaches its top — the ground. The two doors slide to their sides, letting the night's wind glide across their faces. Jack can hear the tiniest of gasps escaping his friend's lips, but he really can't blame Simon, because he, too, misses the night sky. Being confined in a dark cell for years and only able to see the morning gives them quite a lot of time to contemplate the changes that might occur in the glow of the moon and the glittering of the stars.

Turns out, in nature, nothing has really changed. Only humans do. 

They are lead to a jet, where the troops have already been waiting, equipped to their teeth. Some of them have never seen a deviation, and Jack loves that bit of surprise on their faces when they realize that these "notorious beings" look so human. He imagines those faces when they will have finally understood that the different beings are, in fact, humans, and silently chuckles at the thought. He picks a seat next to the sergeant, seeing that the man is the most comfortable seeing his face. Simon, after a while, sits down next to him, buckling his seatbelt as instructed by the nearby soldier. 

The door closes after a while, and slowly, the jet is driven to the runway. It stops for a while to wait for signal, then starts speeding along its route, reaching its highest speed at the end of the runway. With a lift, the jet takes off, accelerating, and flies at full speed to its destination in Kazakhstan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The coordinates thing took me one hour lmao


End file.
